


Light Up The Sky

by Oripoke



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: A Lot of Plot, Action, Adventure, Angst, Burnish Politics, Cults, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, Giant Robots, M/M, Motorcycles, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Self care is running away into the desert and starting a bike gang, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 81,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oripoke/pseuds/Oripoke
Summary: A year after the second Great World Blaze, Galo is bored and Lio is nowhere to be found. When Lucia unveils her latest invention, it sends Galo far beyond Promepolis on a search for his wayward copilot. Meanwhile, Lio has bigger things to worry about, out on the fringes of society with all that remains of Mad Burnish. While the two track down missing Burnish and grapple with their feelings for each other, a ghost from Lio's past threatens to disturb the fragile peace they fought so hard to create...
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos, Minor Gueira/Meis
Comments: 140
Kudos: 410





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> About a month ago, I caught the Redux in theatres and I haven't been able to stop thinking about blue-haired himbos and pyromaniac twinks ever since. It went something like this:
> 
> Me: Oh, I still have feelings about these characters, I should write a short thing about it  
> My traitorous brain, bludgeoning me over the head: A sequel? Is that what you wanted? A _fucking_ sequel?!
> 
> So then I proceeded to spend the entire holiday writing this absolute monster of a story about giant robots, motorcycles and feelings. I still have no idea how long it's gonna end up and only a vague idea of where things are headed at this point, but I know it's headed *somewhere* at least. So strap in, folks, and keep your arms and legs inside of the moving vehicle at all times.
> 
> The theme song for this story is [I Run Roulette](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egbDCH7w0fU) by BOOTS.  
> Title comes from a different BOOTS song, Brooklyn Gamma.
> 
> This story contains spoilers for the entire plot of Promare. Rating is subject to change in future chapters.  
> That's all I think. Hope you enjoy.

Galo Thymos is a man who knows exactly who he is. He’s a hero! He’s saved countless lives as a firefighter, and that was even before he stepped inside of a mech, stopped Kray Foresight’s insane plan, set the entire planet on fire, and saved the world.

He’s also _bored as hell_.

Ever since the Burnish the world over lost their powers — because, hey, it turns out that it was _sentient fire aliens_ the whole time, who would have imagined? — his responsibilities as a firefighter have decreased significantly. Sure, there was a mountain of back-breaking work to do in the immediate aftermath of the space ark’s crashing into the center of Promepolis. Those first few weeks kept them busy with rescuing civilians trapped under the rubble, and freeing the Burnish from those horrible pods that Foresight used to power his warp drive.

But afterwards, when the black shape of the spaceship disappears from the city skyline, and the newly ex-Burnish are resettled into temporary housing, he finds himself with less fires to fight.

As it turns out, when your fire brigade is outfitted with enough high-tech gear to douse even the superheated flames set by pyromaniac mutants, fighting ordinary fires is almost _too_ easy by comparison. Promepolis’ automatic fire-retardant system practically does the work for them, so that when Burning Rescue does arrive, he’s surprised to encounter anything more than smoldering embers left over for them to fight. Galo hardly even has a chance to break out his Matoi gear anymore.

People are pleased to see him, at least: his face was plastered on the cover of every magazine and newscast, granting him a new title: Galo Thymos, Hero of Promepolis. So, that’s nice. He’d said at the start of it all that he was gonna be the world’s number-one firefighter, and when Galo makes a promise on his burning soul, he keeps that promise, dammit!

...But, even though he likes signing autographs and kissing babies, a traitorous part of his soul tells him that he’ll never feel truly satisfied until he’s saving lives again.

So yeah. Galo’s bored. And that’s a problem, because when Galo gets bored, his mind starts to wander. His thoughts travel down a predictable path with only one destination, one he keeps revisiting again and again. He knows that it’s futile. He knows thinking about it is only making him feel worse, and won’t change things at all. Even so, he can’t keep his reckless mind from drifting like the needle on a compass, inevitably pointing towards a certain direction, a particular light in the sky.

That guiding star is named Lio Fotia.

Looking back on his young life thus far, Galo has very few regrets. He regrets a few rescue jobs he did, early on in his career, where his cocky bluster nearly put his teammates or civilian lives at risk. He regrets the way he was taught to think of the Burnish as dangerous firestarters, or anything other than who they truly were: humans who were caught up in a force beyond their understanding. He regrets putting so much trust in Kray Foresight, letting his hero-worship blind him to the warning signs until it was nearly too late.

Mostly though, he regrets letting Lio Fotia leave.

It’s a memory he turns over and over in his head to this day. Back then, they spent uncountable exhausting, stressful hours in each other’s proximity. They needed to: Burning Rescue was the only emergency response group fully equipped to handle the task of freeing the trapped Burnish from those awful engine pods. Galo and Lio, pushing past the brink of exhaustion and grief, worked tirelessly against time to save those innocent lives.

He still remembers it so clearly: how they stood side-by-side and pried open the last capsule from the engine’s core. Lio had nearly collapsed where he stood and Galo, acting on instinct, reached out to steady him. But Lio recoiled from Galo’s touch, pink eyes flashing like the fire that was now gone from all the Burnish, and said with a yelp,

“Don’t touch me!”

Galo, eyes wide, dropped his hand by his side and simply stared at him in shock. It just didn’t make sense. Hadn’t they saved the world together?

Lio, to his credit, seemed to realize that his reaction was out of line, and an immediate look of regret showed in his eyes.

“...I’m sorry, Galo,” he said, tucking his arms in close to his chest and not meeting Galo’s eyes. “You weren’t — you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... difficult.”

Galo’s eyes searched his face, expecting Lio to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to stare at the interior of the capsule they pried open together.

No Burnish remained inside. The capsule was filled with ash.

“...Can you give me a moment alone?” Lio asked after a long pause.

Galo frowned. “I don’t know if you should be alone right now,” he said.

“ _Please._ ”

“Okay then,” Galo said, and obediently took a step back. He couldn’t make out Lio’s expression from behind the curtain of green hair. “I’ll head back to Burning Rescue HQ to let them know we’re done here. You know... if you ever need to talk about any of this... just, know that I’m here, okay?”

No response from Lio. Galo took the hint, turning to leave, but not without checking over his shoulder one last time to see Lio still standing there over the empty capsule, feet planted firmly on the ground, an ever so slight tremble in his shoulders.

Galo hoped that might be the worst of it. Once they’d freed the trapped Burnish, secured emergency aid and began the long and paperwork-heavy process of finding them shelters and homes, he’d hoped to see more of Lio, now that his people were freed.

Not so. In fact, Lio seemed to become more and more scarce as the weeks wore on. Galo would show up at the temporary shelter where Lio stayed, hauling bags of rice and stacks of pizza boxes to hand out to ex-Burnish refugees, and ask after Lio only to be told he’d just left. And every time Lio had to pay a visit to the Burning Rescue HQ to pick up some paperwork, he somehow managed to come whenever Galo was asleep, or early in the morning before he began his shift.

In fact, if Galo didn’t know better, he’d say the former Mad Burnish leader was actively avoiding him. 

This didn’t make sense to Galo. They saved the world together, after all! He had personally saved Lio’s life at least once! Sure, he’d saved plenty of lives in the past and never expected anything of it, but Lio somehow was different. Maybe because he’d lent Galo his Promare. Maybe it was the feeling of their burning souls, joined together in the cockpit of Galo de Lion, working as one to set the whole planet ablaze and send the Promare home.

Maybe it was because Galo had held Lio’s soul in his mouth and breathed fire back into Lio’s lungs. Perhaps that.

Still, he was happy to write it all off as a coincidence, until one of the rare — and last — occasions Lio showed up at the Burning Rescue HQ at a time when Galo was working.

The minute he saw Lio’s mint green hair and slender body framed in the doorway, he nearly fell out of his chair in excitement.

“H-hey! Lio! It’s good to see you,” Galo said, a bright grin showing on his face. Behind him, Lucia and Aina exchanged glances. “How ‘come you’re here at Burning Rescue? Anything we can do for you?”

Lio’s expression was stern. He held out a hand to silence Galo’s rambling.

“I’m not here for very long,” Lio said. “I just wanted to let you all know that I’m leaving.”

The smile slid off Galo’s face. “Wait, you’re what?”

Lio stood rigid, nearly mechanical in his motions and monotonous in his voice. “I’m leaving Promepolis,” he said, and when his pink eyes glanced to meet Galo’s, the gaze felt sharp as a knife. “I just wanted to thank you for your organization’s help. The Burnish of Promepolis are in your debt.” He turned to leave the room.

“WAIT!”

Galo’s body moved faster than his thoughts, and suddenly he was out of his chair and across the room, his hand closed around Lio’s slender wrist. Lio’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You can’t—” Galo began to say.

With blinding speed and more force than necessary, Lio wrenched his arm out of his grasp.

“I don’t recall you having _any_ say over what I can or can’t do with my life, Galo Thymos,” he growled.

“No, that’s, that came out wrong,” Galo tried. His heart hammered in his chest. “What I meant is, there’s still so many people in this city who look up to you. Are you sure they’ll be okay if you just... leave?”

Lio glared up at him, eyes flashing in anger. Then he sighed, and his shoulders seemed to slump as the will to fight drained out of him. “...Look, Thymos,” he said. “I can’t stay here. Most of the people in this city still think I’m a _terrorist,_ in case you forgot.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore! You saved the _world_ , Lio! We both did!”

Lio shot him a scathing look, as though Galo were still a naive child. “If you think that everything is right with the world now that the Promare are gone and Kray Foresight is in prison, it’s only because you’re an incorrigible optimist who thinks that any problem can be overcome with your _blazing firefighter’s soul_.” 

The venomous way he spat those last three words was like a slap to Galo’s face. He staggered back, as though Lio actually struck him. “B-but...” He sputtered, trying to find his words. “It _can_ be. We did it! We made an amazing team! I— I set a _fire_ for you!”

An indistinct emotion flickered across Lio’s face but swiftly vanished behind the cold iron wall. He looked up and met Galo’s eyes with that flat mechanical expression. “Whatever you think... _this_ is,” he said, gesturing vaguely between their chests, “It’s not what you have in mind, and it’s not going to keep me in this city. In case you forgot, there’s Burnish all over the world, not just here in Promepolis. I may not have my Promare anymore, but—" He straightens his spine. "I can still be a beacon of hope for my people. I won't stop fighting until all Burnish the world over are treated as equal citizens."

The ferocity and intensity of Lio's conviction startled Galo. He shrank back, crestfallen, and asked in a small voice, "Do you really want to keep fighting for the rest of your life, Lio?"

Lio peered up at him through the fringe of his bangs. The expression on his boyish face looked weary with age beyond his years. "I've been fighting for as long as I can remember. I wouldn't know how to stop now."

He seemed to gather himself again after that, looking back at the other members of Burning Rescue who were watching this exchange with mouths open and confusion on their faces. He tidied himself up and painted a stiff, stoic mask on again, before bidding them good day and leaving, the door closing shut behind him.

Galo just stood there, watching the space where Lio once had been, wondering if there was anything he could have said to change his mind.

After a long, charged moment, the silence in the Burning Rescue HQ is broken by Lucia.

“Damn,” she said. “Coming from a hothead like him, that was cold as ice.”

Galo just kept staring. “...I thought we were friends,” he said weakly. “Or, well. I thought that we _could_ be.”

Aina approached his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Galo...” she said, voice soft and gentle. “It’s not your fault, you know. It sounds like he’s still got a lot of stuff to work through.”

“I just wanted to help,” Galo said.

“I know you did.” She rubbed his shoulder sympathetically.

Lucia stood up. “C’mon, you two,” she said. “Galo, will a volcano margherita mega mix pizza help cheer you up?”

“...Yeah, sure.”

“Okay then,” she said, and lifted the walkie-talkie off her belt loop. “Boss,” she said into it. “We’re taking Galo out for Sympathy Pizza. Is that cool?”

“That’s fine,” came Ignis’ gruff voice over the other end. “It’s a slow day today. Remi, Varys and I have got the rest of this shift. Just be here on time tomorrow morning.”

“Copy that,” Lucia said, and put the communicator away, turning back to Galo. “C’mon, you big dummy. Let’s drown your feelings in pizza and beer and forget all about dumb boys for today.”

They did, and two and a half large pizzas later, Galo made himself a promise into his bottomless beer (perks of being the Hero of Promepolis) that he wouldn’t let himself get hung up on Lio.

And it worked. For a while, anyway. The months wore on, and Galo gradually stopped looking out for a flash of mint green hair, or listening excitedly for a certain deep, clear voice ringing out with proud authority.

But as the year turns and the anniversary of the day they saved the city approaches, those traitorous thoughts start creeping back in during the times Galo lets himself get distracted.

And then Lucia says something that stokes his fire back into a frenzy.

“I made you something,” she says. “To help lift you out of that funk you’re in.”

“I’m not in a funk,” he starts to object.

“Yeah, you kind of are,” Lucia tells him matter-of-factly. “It’s obvious you miss getting some real action. Can’t say I blame you, really. But that’s why I’ve been working on this. You’ll like it,” she says, a grin spreading across her face. “Call it my way to thank you for saving all our asses last year.”

“...Huh?”

“C’mon into my shop and I’ll show you,” she says.

Galo obediently follows her into the darkened lab. Lucia hardly ever lets anyone back here, into the space where she tinkers and experiments and develops Burning Rescue’s new gear. She approaches a shuttered door behind the back room of the lab and presses a button.

Red lights illuminate on either side of the door and the shutter door rises up with a clatter. Bright lights flick on one at a time, illuminating a suspended walkway that stretches out into the center of the large space that lies beyond. When the lights have lit all the way to the end of the skywalk, brilliant spotlights click on overhead with an electric hum, illuminating the massive, hulking object in the center of the room. Galo shields his eyes from the bright light and blinks spots out of his vision to look at it more clearly.

At the center of the room is a mech — or at least, the upper torso of one. It’s far larger than most other mech suits Galo has seen, towering almost two stories high without even having its legs attached. It’s obviously still under construction, but the armor plating in place gleams and glistens in the artificial light, like a proud warrior from one of Galo’s favorite Japanese samurai movies.

But more than the size and sheer awesomeness of the mech, there’s something undeniably familiar about it. After a moment, Galo figures it out: it’s _his_ mech. ( _Their_ mech.)

“Galo de Lion,” he breathes, and reaches out a hand towards it unconsciously, awe shining in his eyes. “...Never thought I’d see it again.”

“Working on this has been probably my biggest project since... well, ever,” says Lucia as she leads Galo down the illuminated skywalk. “Reverse-engineering Dr. Prometh’s blueprints for the Deus X Machina was difficult enough, but then adapting it to run on a different fuel source other than the Promare was a whole other pain in the butt.”

“What’s it run on?”

“Hydro-fusion, same as all our newest exo-suits. It can run just about forever as long as it has water. It’s the ultimate fire-fighting, emergency rescue machine ever made,” Lucia says proudly. “And she’s all yours, Galo, if you’ll have her.”

Galo walks up to the edge of the skywalk, eyes shining as he gazes into the heart of the incomplete mech.

“Awesome,” he breathes.

“There’s one other thing you should see,” Lucia says, and clicks the remote in her hand.

Under their feet, machinery grinds to life and the walkway begins to rise up with them on it, until they are at eye level with the giant mech. Lucia rests her hand against the glassy surface on its face and finds a button, and the pressurized doors slide open with a hiss, revealing the cockpit inside.

Galo stares. And then stares some more. Instead of having one seat for a pilot, there’s two.

“Dr. Prometh wanted his Deus X Machina to represent the ultimate union of human and Burnish,” Lucia explains. “Obviously, now that the Promare are gone, there’s no need for the Burnish power system he designed any more. But I couldn’t just remove the second pilot altogether. This mech is so complicated, even the best of us couldn’t fly it on their own.” She looks to Galo meaningfully. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

Galo swallows against the lump in his throat. “I need a co-pilot?”

“You need _your_ co-pilot.”

He feels it then, stronger than he’s allowed himself to feel it in all the months since Lio left Promepolis: that off-center lurch in his chest, the feeling that his life is incomplete, will always be incomplete without Lio in it. He doesn’t know how Lucia knew so accurately what he was missing. He didn’t think she even paid attention to other people much, aside from her mechs and her girlfriend. But here she was, leaning her small body against the answer to all of Galo’s problems, a knowing smile across her face.

But. As much as Galo wants to leap inside the cockpit, to wrap his hands around the controls that were almost certainly sized to fit him just right, there’s an inconvenient truth that keeps him back.

“...Lio’s not here,” he says. “He left Promepolis.” _He left Galo._

Lucia raises one eyebrow over her round glasses and fixes him with a Look.

“Well then dummy, what are you waiting for? Go get him,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Bring him here, and then the two of you can take this baby for a spin.” She runs a hand reverently along the outer rim of the cockpit.

Galo considers it. Could it really be that simple? Can he just... find Lio, and convince him to return?

Of course he can; he’s Galo Thymos of the burning soul, hero of Promepolis and the world.

“I’m going to find him,” Galo says. “It’ll probably take at least a few weeks, though.”

“I know, which is why I cleared it with the Chief first,” Lucia says. “He agrees with me, you need this. Don’t argue,” she warns him. “The rest of us’ll keep this city safe while you’re gone.”

“Okay,” he says, still sort of dizzy at the prospect of having this mech, _their_ mech, and the chance to see Lio again.

Lucia gives the mech one final pat and then hops off the railing and starts walking back along the skywalk towards the main area of the lab. “I’ll let you have a moment alone with her,” she says, gesturing at the mech. “Just let me know when you leave, in case you want information on Lio Fotia’s last known whereabouts. Oh, and—“ she clicks her tongue in thought. “She needs a name. I’ve been calling her ‘Deus II Machina’ but that’s a mouthful.”

“You’ll let me come up with a name?” Galo asks, excited.

“Sure. Just don’t come up with anything _too_ stupid-sounding, like ‘Galo de Galo’ or ‘Matoi II’. Use that thick skull of yours to do some thinking, for once.”

“I won’t pick a stupid name,” Galo says. “Promise.”

“Hm. Fine then,” Lucia says, and departs, leaving Galo alone on the end of the walkway, standing eye to eye with the new mecha.

It looks just like Galo de Lion, only... different. Lucia’s design has given it a more feminine look, with smooth sweeping curves that calls to mind Lio’s Burnish armor he wore during the first time they fought each other (and Galo won). Maybe that was why Lucia referred to the mech using feminine pronouns. Despite all its similarities, it really _is_ an entirely new mech, and deserves a new name to go with it.

Something badass-sounding, but dignified, too. A name that combines Galo’s passionate spirit with the sophisticated flair of Lio’s fighting style and Lucia’s genius engineering.

A name, like... _Galo de Leona_.


	2. Chapter 2

A thick drop of black engine oil drips onto Lio Fotia’s forehead, and in that moment he wants nothing more than to just explode.

He’s on his back against the desert sand, baking in the heat of the midday sun. Over his body is straddled the complex snarl of metal tubes and chambers of his motorbike, which thus far has been stubbornly resistant to Lio’s attempts to get it to move again after it died and left them stranded by the roadside.

It should be easy. It’s just combustion; Lio may not have fire in his blood anymore, but he still understands burning things well enough. And yet the inner mechanical workings of Detroit II seem designed specifically to thwart his every effort to repair it.

With the Promare, it was simple. He could just will his bike into existence, and it would manifest; all shiny black plating and the ferocious purr of the engine, a construct of solid flames that worked as an extension of Lio’s ironclad will. Now, though, grappling with the mundane material reality of a bike made of steel and chrome and considerably _less_ fire, Lio has to admit that maybe, just maybe, he’s a bit out of his depth here.

“Uh, boss,” comes Meis’ voice from up above. There’s a rustle of fabric, and he drops his handkerchief in the ground beside Lio’s head. “You got some stuff on your forehead there.”

Lio slides out from under the bike, and wordlessly accepts the cloth, using it to wipe away most of the grease. He looks up at the two figures standing nearby, leaning against their own bikes.

Gueira and Meis, his generals. No— not his generals anymore, not since the Promare left. His _friends_. It’s still a strange concept.

“Any luck getting it to work again?” asks Gueira, sounding bored.

Lio tries turning the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles, then coughs, sputters, and dies again. A sickly smell rises up out of the fuel gasket. Lio swears.

“Tough luck,” remarks Meis. “What do we do now?”

They both look to Lio for answers. Even now, almost a year since they all lost their power, they still follow his lead; something Lio himself has had a hard time understanding, lately.

“I don’t think I can fix this,” Lio admits with some regret.

“Lot trickier now than when we were Burnish, eh boss?” Gueira asks in a drawl.

“We’re still Burnish,” Lio responds, on reflex. “We just don’t have the Promare anymore.”

“Right, right. Pyromaniac alien parasites from another dimension,” Gueira says wryly. “How will we ever live without them.”

It’s harder than Lio ever imagined, particularly for him. He was born Burnish; immersed in flames from the moment he opened his eyes. His fire had burned so bright, and so powerfully that it made everything easy for him. Now, he knows that was just the symbiote’s way of fulfilling its own desire to burn and consume as much as it could; but back then, the power had felt like it was his own. He feels cold without it now, even out here in the hot desert sun.

“We won’t reach our destination like this,” Lio says. “The map said it was an eight hour ride west from the last settlement. We’ll never make it there on foot.” 

“Maybe there’s somewhere we could get your bike fixed along the way,” suggests Meis.

“Seriously, man? Look around,” says Gueira, gesturing to the wasteland that surrounds them. It’s miles and miles of dry, cracked sand and the occasional small rock as far as the eye can see, the distant horizon shimmering in the heat of the desert sun. No evidence of human civilization — not even power lines — is visible from where they stand, on the flat-packed strip of earth that passes for a road.

Lio shakes his head. “We’ll have to go back to the last outpost we left,” he says. “There’s a mechanic there. There’s nothing else along this road.”

“Ugh, seriously?” groans Gueira. “I hated that place. They kept giving us funny looks, like they recognized us.”

“Maybe it was your moustache that offended them,” says Meis.

“Aw, you like my moustache, though,” teases Gueira.

“You look like a caveman.”

Gueira just shrugs. “We used to live in caves all the time. Don’t see what’s so wrong about that.”

Lio clears his throat. “We should start moving. If we keep pace, we’ll make it back by sundown.” He wants to avoid staying out after dark. The cold desert night makes them all shiver uncontrollably.

“Roger that, boss.” Gueira wheels his bike around to face the other direction, and Meis follows suit. Lio feels a bloom of gratitude in his chest; they don’t _have_ to walk their bikes just because Lio’s is out of commission; yet here they are, matching pace with him, their flame-forged loyalty not flickering for a millisecond.

They make it back to the dusty outpost town just as the orange sun dips beneath the horizon, lighting the sky up in purple and indigo. Already the first stars are peeking out through the evening sky. One advantage of being out in the desert is that there’s so little artificial light to block out the stars. Lio often finds himself staring up at them, wondering if one of the uncountable thousands of pinpricks of light is the place where they sent the Promare home.

As Lio wheels his busted bike up to the garage they’d passed on the way out of town, a gruff-looking man intercepts him on his way inside.

“Shop’s closed,” he tells Lio in a low rumble.

Lio peers around him to the interior of the shop, where he sees a different man in a welding mask, wielding a blowtorch amidst a shower of sparks.

“Doesn’t look closed to me,” says Lio.

“It’s closed,” the man repeats, arms crossed.

Lio gestures to his broken motorcycle. “I need to get my bike fixed. I can bring it in tomorrow.”

“Closed tomorrow too,” the man says. “And the next day, and the next.”

Lio scowls; he realizes what’s going on. He doesn’t know how the man recognized him, whether from the news reports or the old wanted posters or if he could just _tell_ that Lio was Burnish somehow.

“I can pay,” Lio says. He doesn’t have much money, or else he’d have bought a much better bike. But he has enough.

The man clears his throat, and spits a wad of mucus onto the ground. “Two thousand credits,” he says.

Lio’s scowl deepens. That’s more than twice what he’d paid for the bike in the first place. “Fuck you,” he mutters, quietly yet vehemently.

“Get out of our town, Burnish,” the man growls.

“That’s what I’m _trying_ to do, but in case you haven’t noticed, my bike is broken,” Lio snarls back. He wheels his bike around and begins stalking away.

“Freeze Force shoulda iced all you pyro bastards!” The man calls after Lio as he walks away, grinding his teeth in seething fury.

He makes it back to the seedy motel where they spent the previous night and finds Gueira and Meis in the bar next door. As he flops exhaustedly on the sticky wooden tabletop, Meis slides a beer over to him, a look of sympathy in his eye.

“Any luck, boss?”

“No,” mutters Lio dejectedly, and takes a sip of the cheap beer. It’s stale and mostly flavorless, but, well, it’s still beer. He lets out a tired sigh, tangles a hand in his hair. “Fuckin’ racist. Figured out we were Burnish somehow.”

“Small towns like these, word travels fast,” observes Gueira over his own drink, beer foam clinging to his moustache. “They don’t got much, so what they do have, they like to lord it over anybody that has less.”

Lio stares at the palm of his hand. “They wouldn’t treat us like this if we still had our fire,” he mutters darkly.

“Simmer down there, boss,” Meis reminds him. “ _Burnish don’t kill_ , remember?”

“I wasn’t thinking of killing anyone! Just... roughing them up a little,” Lio says. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. We’re stuck here in this godforsaken town until I can get my ride fixed. Which, given that the only mechanic in town refuses to work with us, could be any time between tomorrow and _never_.” He gives a long sigh into his beer glass. “We’ll never track down the missing Burnish at this rate...”

“Chin up, boss,” Gueira says. “You’ve had a long-ass day. Take a break, and we can strategize tomorrow.”

Lio wonders if there’s even any point to it all anymore. ‘Strategy’ was one thing when they were more numerous, had powers at their disposal, and were up against a concrete, tangible enemy. Now, they were down to just three; the rest of the formerly-Burnish (ex-Burnish? Burnouts? Lio still thinks of them as Burnish, regardless) are scattered to the corners of the map, clustered into slums or slowly, shakily being reintegrated into society.

It’s different in every city-state. Promepolis has a progressive Burnish rehousing and job training program, generously funded by the government. The interim mayor was desperately eager to address the PR nightmare she’d inherited, after the former Governor was found to be abducting, torturing and killing Burnish and nearly doomed the entire planet. With logistical support and resources from Burning Rescue, Lio had been brought on to help design the program, making sure it would be funded well into the future, that they weren’t just paying lip service to the affected Burnish.

Out here though, the rules are changed completely. There’s hardly enough resources to go around for the ordinary residents, never mind the displaced underclass of Burnish refugees. Old-fashioned beliefs and paranoias are rampant, and many denizens of these towns are older than in the cities, old enough to remember the first Great World Blaze, to still be nursing grudges over loved ones lost in the fires of the Promare left unchecked.

Lio gets it. There’s pain on both sides. He’s just trying to make it right, in any way he can. To reach out to displaced Burnish and find them a home. To spread the news that the International Human Rights commission declared, after the second Great Blaze, that Burnish are purely human and ought to be afforded the same rights as any citizen in a free society.

Still, out here, he sees things that make him seethe with burning fury. He sees Burnish exploited for their labor, forced to work in undignified positions and paid little or nothing at all. He’s witnessed violence and abuse, and when that happens he and his generals won’t hesitate to strike back against the perpetrators to show them that Burnish are by no means helpless, even without their flames.

And he’s seen even worse things: like a town where all of the Burnish were branded in the aftermath, with a triangle that denotes their status as second-class citizens. That place was the closest Lio has come to committing arson since he lost his Promare. With his generals to rein him in, they instead commandeered a truck, gathered all the Burnish they could and guided the convoy to a refugee settlement on the way to Promepolis. Lio is certain he helped change their lives; he only wishes he could erase the memories of torture from their skin.

Then there are the missing Burnish. It’s different from before, when entire communities would be rounded up and abducted by Freeze Force, out in the open in broad daylight. This is different; Burnish go missing in the dead of night, in secret, not more than one or two from any given community. On its own, it could be explained away as them running off to start a new life, or the sadly common fact that crime in these borderlands too often happens without consequence.

But the further they travel, and the more towns they visit, the more Lio starts to recognize a pattern. The disappearances are too consistent to be merely coincidental. Someone, or some group, has been abducting Burnish across the unincorporated territories. It could just be regular human traffickers, except that they seem to only target Burnish. What scant law enforcement that exists are, predictably, uncooperative with Lio’s requests. So he and his generals have been tracking the missing Burnish from town to town, until they arrived here, on the very edge of society.

What stretches beyond is the vast expanse of flat, scorched earth; the Burned Zone. When Lio set off the second Great Blaze, the Promare had to burn _something_. His... _partner_ had directed the flames away from people, away from bridges and roads and train tracks, to the places scorched clean in the first Great Blaze, and ordered the flames to pass over all living things and to burn higher, and brighter, until they could burn themselves out completely.

That still left the wastes, arid and inhospitable to begin with, which took the brunt of the Promare’s alien fire and cleansed them of what little plant life and lichens had managed to gain purchase on the soil in the three decades since the first Great Blaze. What remained gave new meaning to the phrase “scorched earth”. No one ventured out there; not unless they had no plans of returning.

But Gueira found them some valuable intel: a homeless drifter who said she spotted several convoys of silent black trucks, headed out into the wastes in the dead of night several times over the last few months. The timing of her account matched up with the disappearances too closely for them to be unrelated.

So that left Lio, Meis and Gueira here on the edge of civilization, poised to drive out across the least habitable place on earth, to save their people who may or may not have been kidnapped, and may or may not be alive when they find them.

“Excuse me, sir?” comes a youthful-sounding voice from outside their booth. Lio raises his head up from where he was slumped into his arms to look at who was speaking. He sees a youngish boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, with dirt on his face and a grubby uniform of some sort.

“Whuzzuh?” Lio asks, blearily looking up from his third beer. He is, unfortunately, a lightweight, but that hasn’t stopped him from trying to match Meis and Gueira drink for drink, nor has it stopped them from hauling him out of bars whenever he gets too rowdy. Tonight though, he’s too tired to fight... probably.

“Um, would you happen to be Lio Fotia, sir?” The boy asks, radiating nervous energy.

The sound of his name sharpens Lio’s senses; he nods, once.

“There’s someone looking for you, sir,” says the boy. “He’s waiting outside.”

That sobers Lio up more. He pushes himself upright and massages out a crick in his neck. “Is it the auto mechanic?” He feels a coiling heat in his gut, a pale shadow of the fire that used to burn there, but the alcohol and anger make a passable substitute. If the man from before has come to fight, then Lio will show him that Burnish are not to be messed with, Promare or no.

“No, sir,” the boy says. “He’s an outsider, just like you. Arrived in town this morning and he’s been asking if anyone’s seen you all day. Said he’s a friend of yours.”

Lio’s anger turns to confusion, and he looks over at Gueira and Meis, who both shrug. Lio doesn’t do _friends_ ; even among the Burnish, the only ones he’d consider actual _friends_ are the people seated across the table. His mind can’t fathom any alternative, so he gets up from the table and follows the boy outside the bar. Apprehension mingles with the alcohol in his bloodstream, which sends his fight-or-flight instincts into overdrive.

He walks outside the bar, and when he sees the person that’s waiting for him, leaned up against a high-tech motorbike, he stops dead in his tracks.

It’s a face he thought he’d never see again. He still has that same spiky blue hair, broad shoulders and undercut that Lio remembers. Of course, he isn’t wearing a shirt. As soon as he sees Lio, a brilliant grin shines across his big, dumb, handsome face.

“Lio! Finally!” Galo says, hopping off his motorbike.

Confusion and surprise swirl together inside Lio. Why him? Why here? And why now?

“Galo Thymos,” Lio says, feeling faint. “What in icy hell are you doing here?”

Galo approaches, and the closer he gets the more undeniable it becomes: it’s _him_ , actually _him_ , and Lio starts to feel sick to his stomach. “I could ask you the same question. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“...Why?” Lio grits out, between closed teeth.

He seems undeterred by Lio’s naked hostility and continues to approach. “Because! I’ve got some really great and cool news, and it involves you, and me, working together again!” He seems so pleased with himself.

“That doesn’t— why would you come all the way out here to—“ Lio can’t form complete sentences. It seems as though Galo’s bullish stupidity is contagious at a distance.

“It’s kind of a long story, but the short version of it is, Lucia is brilliant,” he says, still wearing that big, stupid grin. “But hey, I’ll have plenty of time to fill you in on what you missed on the way back to Promepolis!”

“Back to—“ Lio wobbles on his feet. His vision starts to swim before his eyes, and it’s difficult to fathom what’s really happening and what isn’t. His stomach heaves. “Back to Prom—“

The door of the bar slams open and Gueira and Meis rush outside just in time to see Lio throw up on the ground all over Galo’s feet.


	3. Chapter 3

After a hastily mumbled apology, Lio leaves Galo in the parking lot while Meis and Gueira work together to gently manhandle his drunk and delirious body into their motel bathroom. Underneath the scalding hot water, he sits fully-clothed on the shower floor until he is washed clean of vomit and desert dust and his head has cleared and sobered up substantially. After he emerges from the shower (wearing a form-fitting black tank top that was a rare non-leather addition to his wardrobe), Lio wants nothing more than to pass out on top of the scratchy motel sheets and never talk to anyone else ever again.

Unfortunately, his generals have other ideas. They corner him on his bed, demanding answers.

“Boss, who _was_ that guy? What’s his deal?” Gueira demands.

“He seems familiar... Wait,” says Meis, snapping his fingers. “It’s him, isn’t it? The crazy Burning Rescue guy! The one who beat us in a fight that one time.”

“Uuughh,” Lio groans, and covers his face with his hands. Now that the alcohol is mostly out of his system (and... on the desert sand, all over Galo’s feet), the drunkenness is mostly gone too, replaced instead with a red flush of embarrassment as Lio realizes just how badly he fucked up. Why couldn’t he _say_ anything? Why, after all this time, is he _still_ unable to function like an ordinary human being around Galo?

“Yeah, come to think of it, it was the two of you that piloted that mech and punched Kray Foresight’s face in, wasn’t it. You two literally saved all our asses. How come you never talk about him much?” Gueira says, scratching his beard in thought. “What was his name, again? Galo something?” 

“Galo Thymos,” Lio says, forcing the words through lips that seem reluctant to move. “And two things: _one_ , he didn’t beat me, I _let_ him win so that we could get inside that Burnish prison, if you remember. And _two_ : I don’t talk about him because... I can’t. I just can’t,” Lio admits, his knees tucked tight into his chest and arms crossed sulkily in front of his face.

Gueira makes a _hmmm_ sound, and Meis seems similarly thoughtful. After a moment, he fixes Lio with a look.

“I’ma be real with you for a minute, boss,” Gueira says. “Is this because he’s really fucking hot?”

Lio splutters, “Wh—what?! No!!”

“Look, I may be taken, but I’m not blind,” says Gueira. “That is a prime specimen of manhood if I’ve ever seen it. He’s totally jacked, and almost never wears a shirt. Pretty face, too.”

“One time, Burning Rescue did a pinup calendar,” remarks Meis. “Eleven out of twelve of the months were just photos of him. It sold very well.”

“You— wh— how do you _know_ this stuff?” Lio demands.

“Professional curiosity,” replies Meis with a shrug.

Gueira leans in towards Lio, nudging him with an elbow. “You know it’s totally okay with us, right? You’re, like... _allowed_ to like people. Honestly, I was wondering when you were gonna, if you were even interested in—“

“It’s— not like that with him, _okay_?” Lio interrupts, too loud, his voice inadvertently rising to a squeak on the last word. Embarrassed, he covers his face in his hands again. “It’s just. Different. It’s complicated.”

Both Meis and Gueira look at him with expressions of concern, and Lio hates it. He hates talking about feelings, or about Galo, and he _especially_ hates talking about his feelings for Galo. More than anything though, he hates feeling weak and vulnerable, like a child. He looks so young— he knows— with his boyish face, slender form and short stature. (The Promare probably fucked up his body’s aging process, too.) Normally, his generals would never treat him like that; he led them into battle as the legendary Mad Burnish, after all. He knew who he was when he was leading them. He never doubted it for a second.

And all it took was Galo coming back into his life to fuck it all up again.

“Well, boss, I’m not gonna keep hounding you about it, ‘cause I can see it’s obviously got you messed up,” Gueira says. “But I think you at least owe the guy a real conversation. And maybe a new pair of shoes.”

“He did say he came all the way out here looking for you, yeah?” says Meis. “What did he want, anyway?”

“I’m... not sure, exactly,” Lio admits, reflecting on how rapidly his first interaction with Galo in nearly a year devolved into drunken humiliation. “But he mentioned wanting me to come back to Promepolis.”

“Back to the city, huh?” Gueira says thoughtfully. “Sure sounds a hell of a lot nicer than out here...”

“I’m not going back,” Lio says immediately. “Not with him, and not until we find the missing Burnish.”

Gueira and Meis exchange glances, then look back at him. “It’s your call, boss,” says Gueira. “But, can you do us a teensy favor, though? Tomorrow morning, when you’re sober, if the big blue lug is still here, will you go talk to him for real and find out what he wants? We’re dying to know, over here.”

Lio gives a dismissive sniff. “ _Fine_ ,” he says. He picks up a pillow and tosses it at Gueira’s head. “Now quit asking questions and let me sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“Have sweet dreams of sexy firefighters,” says Meis.

Lio chucks his other pillow at him. “Shut _up_!”

***

Galo isn’t sure what he was expecting when he rolled into this border town and heard Lio was sighted there yesterday. The prospect of meeting him again, of having a second chance to reconnect, is almost as intimidating as rushing headlong into a burning building. But Galo’s a firefighter, so that doesn’t scare him at all.

Then he finally meets Lio, who almost immediately throws up all over Galo’s shoes.

His two friends — the other Mad Burnish members, whose names Galo can’t remember — show up immediately to pick up Lio off the desert dust, and they each give Galo strange looks. Not angry, just mostly confused. Lio looks wrecked, and he won’t look at Galo but murmurs incoherent apologies while they carry him inside the motel, leaving Galo alone outside.

Well, that’s. Definitely one way to reunite with his copilot.

Galo reflects on how Lio looked. He was surprised to find him drunk — he didn’t think the Burnish leader drank. But then, he lost his Promare, and a lot can change in a year.

Still, he thinks, Lio looks _rough_. His hair is longer, its color less bright. There’s an ashy pallor across his pale skin, tinted red with sunburn and desert dust. And the flush across his cheeks might be due to alcohol, but it might also — Galo suspects — be a symptom of dehydration. Which would also explain the nausea and sudden collapse. He worries Lio may not be drinking enough water.

But that’s just his EMT training kicking in again. He can’t treat Lio, nor does he think the man would let him. And he doesn’t think Lio will come out to talk to him again tonight.

Resolving to find him again in the morning, Galo gets his own room in the motel and checks out for the night.

The next morning, he rises with the sun, like he’s accustomed to. Early shifts at Burning Rescue generally involve getting up while the sky is still dark, so he’s used to sleeping in short, efficient bursts. He doesn’t think Lio will be up for many hours yet — based on his own experience from hangovers past. So instead, he decides to work out. He may be far away from Promepolis, but that’s no excuse to let his conditioning slip! A true firefighter is always prepared!

He jogs a circuit around the entire town, relishing the chill that still lingers in the desert air from the night before. Then, because the town is not very big, he does a second lap. Returning to the parking lot outside the motel, he’s disappointed that he didn’t see a proper weightlifting gym or anything like that during his run, but not deterred. Firefighters are resourceful, after all.

He’s lying on his back in the parking lot, bench-pressing his own motorbike, when he notices a pair of feet approach and stand by his side. He gives the bike one final rep, then carefully sets it aside and sits upright, looking up at the person silhouetted against the morning light. It’s one of Lio’s friends, the redhead with the beard.

“Hey, man,” he says in a laid-back drawl. “Sorry to interrupt your workout.”

“No problem,” Galo tells him with a smile. “What’s up?”

He extends a hand, which Galo accepts, and helps him to his feet. “It’s Galo, right? Nice to meetcha.”

“Galo Thymos! Always a pleasure,” Galo responds, shaking his hand with gusto. “And you are... err...”

“It’s Gueira,” says Gueira. “Dunno if you remember, but you gave me and Meis a real good ass-kicking on top of a skyscraper that one time.”

“Oh! That was you?” Galo says. “I guess I didn’t recognize you without all the, uhh,” he gestures vaguely at Gueira’s body as if to imply _spikes_ and _armor made of solid Burnish flames_.

“Yeah,” Gueira says with a shrug. “Things are pretty different now.” He casts a look over his shoulder at the diner behind them. “Anyway, the Boss is awake, and we convinced him to have a chat with you now that he’s sober. He’s having breakfast right now, so you can talk to him, if you want.”

 _Even after the Promare left, they still think of him as their boss, huh,_ Galo thinks, and then files that thought away for future reference.

He stretches out his burning muscles (a good post-workout stretch is essential to prevent spontaneous muscle cramps!), and grabs a towel off the top of his motorbike which he runs through his sweaty hair, setting it into proper spikes again. “Okay! I’m gonna go talk to him,” he exclaims with a smile, and sets off towards the diner.

“You’re just gonna...“ Gueira remarks, raising an eyebrow at Galo’s shirtless, sweaty form.

“...Yeah?” Galo answers. “I don’t think Lio will mind. We piloted the _Galo de Lion_ together! He understands my blazing soul better than anyone.”

“Your blazing— Okay, wow,” says Gueira. “I kinda see what Lio was getting at with you. Well, go ahead and have your talk with him. Me an’ Meis are gonna... go be somewhere else for a while,” he says, and departs.

Galo enters the diner, shouldering his broad torso through the narrow door frame. He instantly spots Lio seated at a booth in the corner.

He’s displaying all the obvious signs of a severe hangover: tired eyes, scruffy hair, lack of a will to live. He’s dressed in his usual black leather jacket, hunched over a cup of coffee, clutching it with both hands like a lifeline.

He glances up when Galo walks in, and the second their eyes meet, there’s a burning flash before he hastily looks away and down again.

Galo approaches his booth, leans against the wooden seat back. “Hi,” he says. “Is this seat taken?”

“Mh,” Lio grunts in response, not looking up at Galo, but gestures that he should sit down. Galo slides in opposite him.

“Hey, Lio,” he says, a small smile on his face. He’s just happy to see him.

Before Lio can reply, a waitress approaches their table, clipboard in hand. “What can I get for you boys?”

Galo glances at the menu, picks out the first thing that catches his attention. “I’ll get the Triple-stack Mega Caliente Hot cakes with extra bacon.”

The woman writes down his order, then turns to Lio.

“Just coffee,” Lio grunts, not looking up.

“Actually,” Galo says, “make mine a double.” He knows from experience that greasy, fatty foods are exactly what his body craves most after a hangover. And even if Lio refuses, Galo can probably put away two entire breakfasts with ease.

“So that’s a six-stack ultra-hot hot cakes with double-extra bacon and a bottomless coffee,” the waitress confirms. “I’ll have that out for you boys in a jiffy.”

She departs, leaving Lio and Galo sitting across from each other in silence.

“Galo.” Lio glances up at him through his bangs. “What are you doing here.”

“Ordering us breakfast?”

Lio lets out an annoyed huff. “...Not _here_ here, you dolt. I meant this town.”

“Oh,” Galo says. “I came looking for you.”

“Why,” Lio asks, deadpan.

“Well, mostly, I just really wanted to see you again,” he admits. “I can’t stop thinking about what we did, when we piloted the Galo de Lion together and saved the world. And I’ve been wondering what you were up to since leaving Promepolis.”

“You came all the way out here, to bum-fuck nowhere, just because you wanted to see me?”

“Well, yeah,” Galo says. “Although, there’s something else, too.”

“You mentioned that,” Lio says, giving him the side-eye again. “What is it?”

“It’s... well, it’s a mech,” Galo says. “ _Our_ mech.”

Recognition flashes in Lio’s eyes. Then he looks away. “Deus X Machina was destroyed beyond repair.”

“I know,” Galo says. “But Lucia reverse-engineered Dr. Prometh’s blueprints, and she’s built a new one.”

That gets Lio’s attention. He studies Galo, in case there was any chance he was being dishonest. But Galo’s not that kind of person — he couldn’t tell a lie, even if he wanted to.

Still, Lio narrows his eyes. “That mech ran on Burnish power,” he says. “In case you forgot, I haven’t got my Promare anymore. None of us do.”

“This one has a different power source. It doesn’t use Burnish flames,” Galo says. “But it does need a second pilot.”

Lio takes a long sip of his coffee. He sets it down on the countertop with a _click_. “You’re saying you want me to be your copilot.”

“Well... yeah! We made a really good team, before. I’m certain we could do it again!”

“Why not get one of your Burning Rescue buddies to pilot with you?”

“That’s not... it just wouldn’t feel right,” Galo says, running a hand through his hair. “I wish you could see her, Lio. She really is the spitting image of our mech... not the lame design Dr. Prometh made, either, it’s the cool version that we built with our blazing souls combined.”

Lio wheezes under his breath; after a second Galo recognizes it as muffled laughter. “I can’t believe I forgot how you actually talk like that,” Lio says, one hand covering his mouth to try and hide his small smile. The sight of it makes something squeeze inside of Galo’s chest. “Did you just call the robot a ‘she’?”

“Well, it’s kind of... Lucia made it, so I picked a name that would reflect her.” Galo pauses, looking over at Lio. “...Aren’t you gonna ask me what I named it?”

“I have a feeling that you’re going to tell me, anyway.”

“Her name’s _Galo de Leona_ ,” Galo says, pride brimming within his chest. It’s almost feels like he’s talking about his own child. ( _Their_ child?)

Lio gives another snort of laughter into his coffee. “What is it with you and naming things after yourself?”

“What! It sounds cool, like a Japanese warrior meets a medieval Knight!” Galo says, defensively.

“It’s very... You,” says Lio.

At that very moment, their waitress returns, carrying two plates stacked high with fluffy pancakes doused in hot sauce. She sets both plates in front of Galo, who immediately slides one of them across the table to Lio.

Lio flashes a glare at him. “I didn’t ask you to order me food.”

“I know,” says Galo, cheerfully. “But I know from experience that hangovers suck, and the only good thing about them is that they make breakfast the next morning taste _amazing_.”

Reluctantly, Lio reaches out and snags a strip of crunchy bacon off the plate. He chews it, swallows, then says, “I didn’t think you got hangovers. Figured you were too perfect for that.”

Galo laughs. “Of course I get hangovers,” he says. He’d had a particularly bad one, the morning after Lio left Promepolis; but he doesn’t want to tell Lio that.

They dig into their breakfasts, Galo enthusiastically and Lio methodically. When they’re mostly done, Galo slides his plate aside and fixes Lio with a stare.

“So,” he says, “Now you know why I came out here to find you. So, whaddaya say? Are you gonna come back to Promepolis and pilot this mech with me?”

Lio takes a long, drawn-out sip of coffee. When he sets his cup down and meets Galo’s eyes, it causes Galo’s heart rate to skyrocket, thundering in his chest so loud he’s sure Lio can hear.

“No,” says Lio simply. “I’m not going back to Promepolis.”

There’s a feeling like breaking glass inside Galo. “But— _why_?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” says Lio. “I’m flattered you came all this way to meet with me. And I have to admit, seeing you again after all these months has been... not unpleasant. And your mech _does_ sound cool.”

“ _Our_ mech,” Galo mutters.

“But,” Lio continues, ignoring him, “I meant what I said the last time I saw you at Burning Rescue. I’m not out here because I _want_ to; I’m here because I _have_ to be. There’s no way you could possibly understand how different it is out here than in the city. Every day, I see Burnish that are struggling to survive in a society that treats them as less than human. My people are _disappearing_ , Galo. They’re being kidnapped and taken to Fire knows where,” he says. “I won’t rest until I find them.”

Galo’s eyes widen in surprise. “Burnish are disappearing?”

Lio hesitates, then nods curtly. “Yes. A few at a time, from practically every town we visited this past year.” He glances out the window, which shows a view of the barren, dusty horizon. “We’ve tracked them this far, but they’re being taken further than that. Out somewhere beyond the Wastes.”

“That’s messed up!” Galo exclaims, pounding his fist on the table. “Why would anyone wanna kidnap Burnish?! You don’t even have the Promare inside you anymore!”

“That’s what we’d like to know, too.” Lio looks him in the eye. “So, hopefully now you understand why I can’t go back to Promepolis with you. No one else is coming for the missing Burnish, so it has to be us.”

“Of course I understand! Lio, that’s awful that your people are being taken. I can’t believe I hadn’t heard that was happening before now. Of course you should go rescue them!”

Lio smiles a relieved smile. “I’m glad you understand. For some reason, I thought you’d be more disappointed about going back to Promepolis empty-handed.”

“Back to Prome— no, you’ve got it all wrong,” says Galo. “Lio, I’m coming with you!”

Lio accidentally inhales some of his coffee. When his brief coughing fit subsides, he exclaims, “You’re _WHAT?!_ ”

“I’m coming with you to help rescue the kidnapped Burnish,” Galo tells him. “Now that I know something like that is going on, I can’t just sit around and let it continue. Rescuing people is _literally_ my job.”

“Did you mis-hear the part where I mentioned _driving across an inhospitable wasteland_?” Lio asks incredulously, gesturing towards the barren horizon out the window.

“Yeah? My bike can handle it,” Galo says with a shrug. “Besides, if these kidnappers are looking for a fight, you know I’m good for it.” He cracks his knuckles and grins. “...Seeing as how I beat you, and all.”

“You— I don’t— first of all,” Lio splutters, “You didn’t beat me. Letting you win was part of my plan.”

“Sounds like something a sore loser would say,” says Galo, wiggling his eyebrows. “And now that the Promare are gone, we’re on even _more_ equal footing.”

“And secondly— oh my stars, you’re impossible,” Lio says, hanging his head in his hands despondently. “There’s literally nothing I can say that will get you to change your mind, is there.”

“Nope!” Galo says, way too cheerfully. “You’re getting the full, all-expenses-paid Galo Thymos experience.”

“You,” Lio says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are going to give me a fucking _aneurysm.”_

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad,” Galo says, leaning in across the tabletop, still grinning. “Besides, you already admitted that you don’t hate spending time with me.”

“That was before I remembered how much of a _ridiculous pain in the ass_ you are,” groans Lio, draining the last of his mug. 

“Aww. You can just admit you like me already,” says Galo, and Lio spits out his coffee.

Their waitress shows up after that with the check, which Galo pays in full despite Lio’s protestations (“I ordered both breakfasts! And you didn’t even have a say, which isn’t fair to you”). They leave the diner, and when they step out into the dusty parking lot, they find Meis and Gueira waiting for them.

“Howdy, Boss,” Gueira says. Then he nods in Galo’s direction. “‘Sup, big guy?”

“I’m coming with you guys!” Galo cheerfully tells him. “I’ll help you track down and rescue those missing Burnish.”

“Are you, now,” Gueira drawls, and raises one eyebrow at Lio.

Lio gives a long-suffering sigh. “I tried to talk some sense into him,” he says. “ _You_ try convincing him not to do something once he has his mind set on it. He’s stubborn as a bull, and twice as thick-skulled.”

Meis just shrugs. “Could be nice to have some extra muscle on hand.”

“Yeah, and he’s certainly got enough abs to spare,” agrees Gueira with a chuckle.

“Uh, fellas? I’m right here,” Galo points out. “Like, I can hear all the stuff you’re saying about me.”

“Better get used to it sooner than later,” Lio tells him. He fixes Galo with a curious stare, one that sends an inadvertent shiver down Galo’s spine. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about fixing a broken motorbike, would you?”

“Sure I do,” Galo says. “Why’s that?”


	4. Chapter 4

As Lio watches Galo tinker with Lio’s motorbike in the hot desert sun, light glinting off the gleaming sweat and myriad shifting muscles across Galo’s back, it occurs to him that this may become a Problem.

Not a lowercase-p-problem; Lio has had plenty of those and knows how to handle them just fine. Stuff like his bike breaking down, or getting refused service because they’re Burnish; like getting into fist-fights and being run out of town. Problems like that might be inconvenient at the time, but they had the blessed tendency to get smaller and smaller until they disappear in Lio’s rear-view mirror.

This sort of Problem was different, though. Rather than vanishing over the horizon, Problems tend to grow when Lio has his back turned on them. Capital-P Problems are the sort that populate his thoughts late at night; they introduce a new, dangerous variable into his typically ironclad decision-making process.

He wants to pin the blame on Gueira for introducing these traitorous thoughts about Galo into his subconscious; but really, that wouldn’t be fair to Gueira. Lio has been aware of the complicated feelings he has for a certain blue-haired idiot, which began shortly after they saved the world together, if not slightly before.

In the near-aftermath of the crash of the Parnassus, Lio didn’t have the mental space or energy for those kinds of thoughts. But they kept intruding, no matter how aggressively he attempted to push them out of his head. Galo was just always there, acting guileless and friendly and heroic and kind and handsome and _infuriating_. Being near him felt like standing near a radioactive meteorite; just being in his vicinity was slowly killing Lio, and if he stared directly at him, it felt as though he would die instantly.

And then there was, y’know, the trauma. And trying to cope with literally having lost a part of his soul, the flame that had driven him forward for so long with its murmuring voice in the back of Lio’s head to burn, _burn, BURN._

For Lio at that point, it had been a matter of simple math. He could stay in the city, coping with constant reminders of everything that has hurt him and every feeling he just didn’t have enough room in his narrow chest to accommodate. Or, he could leave, venture out on the open road, and continue to do what he has done best his whole life long, fighting for the freedom of his people. It wasn’t a difficult choice, once the safety of the Promepolis Burnish was secured. Ironically, Burning Rescue’s help with that had made Lio’s decision even easier.

So he’d left the Problem behind, convinced himself that it was just a lowercase-problem after all, and focused his efforts entirely on promoting Burnish rights. And it worked. For nearly a year, Lio had a singular focus and very few distractions.

Then the Problem did what Problems tend to do, and it snuck up from behind while Lio was distracted and now was standing out in the desert sun, fawning over Lio’s motorbike.

“See, there’s your problem, I think,” says Galo, pointing a grease-stained finger at a valve that seemed indistinguishable from every other valve and tube in the engine block to Lio’s eyes. “You’ve got a cracked gasket. It’s preventing the fuel from reaching the ignition chamber properly.”

“Can you fix it?” Lio asks, deliberately affecting an air of indifference.

“I think so, but I’ll need a replacement part first,” Galo says. “Do you know if there’s any mechanics or auto shops in town?”

Lio grimaces, recalling the last encounter he’d had with the auto mechanic. “There is, but he’s a real asshole.”

Galo shrugs, and massages out a crick in his neck. “That won’t be a problem,” he says, grinning. “People tend to do what I ask, most of the time.”

“It’s not that,” says Lio gruffly. “He wouldn’t work with me because I’m Burnish.”

Immediately the grin disappears from Galo’s face, replaced with a stormy look. “That’s _not_ okay,” He rumbles.

“It really is. It’s fine,” Lio tries to tell him, but his words just slide off without effect.

“I’m going to have a talk with him,” Galo says, a dark shadow across his expression. “Which way did you say his shop was, again?”

Lio places the flat of his palm against his face, and points with the other hand in the direction of the auto shop. Galo storms off in that direction, and Lio wonders what mayhem he’s just inadvertently caused.

Fifteen minutes later, and a blue-haired figure comes jogging back across the desert dust to meet with Lio, a wide smile across his face.

“Lio! I got the part you needed! Plus a couple spares,” Galo says.

Lio looks at the rubber rings he holds in his outstretched hand, and then up at Galo’s still-smiling face. “...How?”

“Oh, I told him I was the Hero of Promepolis and showed him my Burning Rescue badge,” Galo says, still grinning. “...And then I pointed out several fire safety violations in his workshop, and implied that the next time there’s a fire, help might not be so quick to arrive if he doesn’t change his views towards Burnish.”

“Galo!” Lio exclaims, scandalized if not a little impressed. “You can’t just _do_ that!”

“Counterpoint: I just did,” Galo says. “And anyway, it was mostly true. This place is outside of our jurisdiction, so we really _don’t_ have to come fight fires out here. But he doesn’t know that.” His cocky smile changes into a more genuine one. “Anyway, now that that’s been taken care of, let’s get your bike fixed!”

Lio watches him carefully as he gets down on his knees and uses a wrench to unscrew the broken part and replace it with the new one. He tells himself it’s just so that he can learn how the inner workings of his own bike operate, so that he can fix it himself in the future. But that self-promise doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, when most of his attention is on Galo himself rather than the bike.

At last, he stands up from his work, dusting himself off. “Okay! She should be ready to roll now,” he says. “Why don’t you fire it up, Lio?”

A wry smile curls Lio’s lip as he straddles the leather seat on the bike. _Fire it up_ — does Galo ever hear the words that come out of his own mouth? Probably not.

He turns the key in the ignition, and the bike roars triumphantly to life before it settles down to a steady purr. With a nudge to the accelerator, he zooms forward into the empty desert ahead of them, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake. He rides straight ahead for a short while, embracing the wind that batters against his face and jacket, before banking a U-turn and coming back to the parking lot where Galo is waiting for him.

Lio drops his kickstand and steps off the motorbike, dusting off his leather uniform. “It works,” he says. He looks up at Galo, meets his eyes. “...Thanks.”

“No problem!” Galo says cheerfully. “So, when are we gonna head out to find the missing Burnish?”

Lio glances up at the sun in the sky, which hangs almost directly overhead. It’s too late in the day; if they left town now, it would be nightfall before they crossed more than half the desert. If Lio still had his fire, they would ride all through the night and into the next morning; but as it was, as soon as the sun sets and the cold night comes, Lio, Meis, and Gueira start shivering uncontrollably without their inner fires to keep them warm anymore.

“We still need time to gather supplies and plan our route,” says Lio. “We’ll depart tomorrow at first light.”

“Roger that... Boss,” Galo replies, and the sound of him calling Lio ‘boss’ sends a shiver up Lio’s spine.

“Don’t— don’t call me that,” Lio objects. “That’s for Meis and Gueira. You’re not Mad Burnish, so I’m not your boss.”

The smile on Galo’s face flickers for a moment, and then returns, just as bright. “Okay then,” he says. “But I should still give you a nickname, y’know? To celebrate our friendship.”

“You really don’t have to,” says Lio. “Just Lio is fine.”

“Nahhh, I’m gonna give you a nickname,” Galo insists, undeterred. “How about ‘Sparky’?”

“That sounds like a dog’s name,” says Lio. “Absolutely not _._ ”

“Firefly?”

“I’m not an insect,” objects Lio, ignoring the feeling that thrums within his chest.

“Well then,” says Galo, his voice suddenly and unexpectedly deep, “what about _Starlight_?”

Lio doesn’t even want to think about how Gueira and Meis would react if they overheard Galo call him that. But, he can’t deny the thrill that runs through him and makes his hair stand on end, more in reaction to the _sound_ of Galo’s voice than the actual words he’s saying.

Oh, fucking hell. This really was a Problem now.

“Just Lio is fine,” Lio repeats himself stiffly, and turns to head back to the motel in order to talk plans with Meis and Gueira.

He tries not to think about Galo’s gaze watching him as he leaves.

***

They leave town the next morning, motorcycle engines revving in the chill dawn air. Lio, Gueira and Meis are still shivering a bit in the cold, but with the energy of a hot meal and a night’s sleep, they are able to push through it and hit the road. The Burned Zone stretches farther than the eye can see in all directions. With Meis as their navigator, they set off with determination across the broad stripe of flat-packed earth that passes for a road.

Lio takes point, blazing ahead astride the newly-revitalized Detroit II. Meis flanks Lio to the left and Gueira on his right, both of their motorcycles carrying large packs that contain their supplies, water, and fuel for the journey. Galo brings up the rear, looking out-of-place with his shiny, modern blue-and-white motorcycle next to the other three with their classic-style bikes, all black metal and gleaming chrome.

It has only been a few days since Lio has had this, but he was missing it: the simple tranquility of riding out in the desert, where it’s just him, his men, and the roar of their engines. He can’t really hear anything over the sound of the rushing wind and the thunder of his bike, and he’s okay with that. Being out here helps him think.

Or, well, it used to. But Lio’s thoughts keep straying back to the fourth member of their party, as his bike weaves back and forth between Lio’s rear-view mirrors. He’d thought Galo would at least wear a damn shirt while riding, but naturally he hasn’t. The man is 60% naked 90% of the time. Even his firefighting mech, Lio remembers, managed to show off his bare chest, which struck him as a safety concern. It’s not as though he hasn’t got a reason to show off. But it can get... distracting.

Rolling his eyes and sighing into his helmet, Lio focuses on the road ahead. The horizon stretches from corner to corner across the desert, bright blue and uninterrupted by any building or rock or tree. It feels like they’re on an alien planet, which reminds Lio that he once had an alien inside of him — and that somehow feels less strange than it should be, on its face.

Occasionally, he thinks he hears echoes of the Promare in the back of his mind, a little voice muttering words like _warm_ and _burn_ and _justice_. But the Promare are gone, Lio knows, and these thoughts are just imprints, old habits formed back when his thoughts were not all his own. He remembers saying goodbye to it, watching the dancing flame linger in his palm as if it didn’t want to leave, before reluctantly pulling away from Lio and back into the portal.

Time passes, and the sun climbs higher into the sky, beating its heat down onto the flat desert. When it reaches its zenith directly overhead, Lio calls for a break and they all stop to drink water and refuel their bikes.

Predictably, as soon as they have a moment, Galo comes up to Lio excitedly, like a stray dog that you feed once and won’t leave you alone after that.

“Not much to look at out here, is there,” Galo observes.

“Are you seriouslycomplaining after I _told_ you we’d be driving across a barren wasteland?”

“Nah, that’s not it,” Galo says, lifting his helmet off his head and shaking out his spiky blue hair. “It’s just, we really did a number on this place when we lit the whole world on fire.”

His words send a jolt through Lio. It’s the first time they’ve talked about it directly; what they did together that day that stopped the planet Earth from becoming a molten tomb. It’s dangerous territory, normally one of the sore spots that Lio dances around and pokes at the edges of it, rather than acknowledging it directly. But Galo is here, and Lio has questions about it that need answering.

“How did you do it?” Lio asks. When Galo looks at him curiously, he clarifies, “When you directed the flames away from humankind. How did you know how to shape them?” Only the more talented Burnish had that kind of precise control over the fires they created. And yet Galo, who wasn’t even Burnish, had managed to weave the flames with such precision that they covered the whole globe without suffering a single casualty. It seemed inconceivable.

Galo just tilts his head, giving Lio a curious look. “I didn’t,” he says. “I thought that was you.”

“What?!” Lio’s voice rises to a squeak. (Embarrassing.) “That— that wasn’t me. I was trying to stoke the flames, so that the Promare could finally satisfy their need to burn and go home.”

In the back of his throat, Galo makes a _hmm_ sound. “I remember one time, back when I thought you Mad Burnish were all terrorists, you told me — you always set escape routes for every blaze you started. That you vowed never to kill anyone.” He looks pensive, an expression at odds with his normally boisterous demeanor. “That might’ve been why you were able to protect everyone.”

Lio considers the implications. Was it possible that, in that moment, Galo and Lio had traded roles? That Galo was the one stoking the flames with his blazing soul, while Lio was the one protecting people from the fire?

There are still too many uncertainties about that day; Lio doesn’t know if they will ever find answers for all of them. But there was something in what Galo said that’s bothering him.

“You should know,” Lio says, drawing a line in the desert dust with the toe of his boot and not meeting Galo’s eyes, “It wasn’t always like that. ‘Burnish don’t kill.’ There was a time, before I was leader, when—” he looks out at the cloudless sky. “I’ve done some bad things, Galo.”

He looks at Lio then, a strange expression in his blue, blue eyes. “I knew that, Lio,” he says, nonplussed. “I’m a firefighter. We know better than anyone the number of casualties that happen in a blaze.” He taps a finger against his chin as if recalling something. “I _did_ think it was pretty lucky, that day when we fought and I beat you, that all the civilians were clustered together in fireproof areas. But now I don’t think it was luck at all. That was you, looking out for innocents. You’re like me that way!”

“You _didn’t_ beat me,” Lio repeats, again, his objection sounding even weaker than last time. “And we’re nothing alike. I _set_ that fire, in case you forgot!”

“You guys started fires because you had to,” Galo says. “I get that now. If I had an alien parasite in my brain telling me what to do all the time, I don’t think I’d have been able to resist doing what it said.”

“You? You’re the stubbornest person I know,” Lio tells him. “I think even the Promare would have a hard time ordering you around.”

“Hey, Boss,” calls Gueira’s voice from beside their bikes. “We’re finished fueling up. Once you’re done taking care of business, we can hit the road.”

“Right. Good work, you two,” Lio says. “We’ll set off again in another minute. I just need to take care of something quickly first.” He dusts off his leather jacket, then swiftly and without warning, steps inside of Galo’s personal space, so that their chests are nearly touching. Galo’s so much taller that his chin is level with the top of Lio’s head, but Lio looks up at him, pink eyes blazing with determination.

“Galo,” Lio tells him, his voice deep and stern. “There’s something you need to understand about me,” he says, and Galo swallows nervously. ”You may be the Hero of Promepolis, and we might have saved the world together. But I’m no hero. I have lived a different and mostly violent life for years before we met. You would be wise to remember that.”

“That’s— Lio, no offense, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and _I’m_ supposed to be the one who says ridiculous stuff every day,” says Galo. “Of _course_ you’re a hero. The other Burnish look up to you! You’ve spent this whole year fighting for them. Look at where we are right now,” he says, gesturing to the empty desert around them. “You’re putting yourself out there when nobody else will, all for the sake of helping your missing people. That’s exactly what heroes do!”

“You don’t understand!” Lio snaps back. “Mad Burnish used to _kill people_! And I was a part of it then, too! We would burn buildings down to the ground, and I could hear the screams of people trapped inside. And I just let it happen! For far too long, until I became leader... that was normal for us.”

Galo shakes his head. “Lio... being a hero isn’t about things you did in the past. It’s all about the decisions you make here, and now, in the moment when it counts! And I know that when it matters, you’ll stand up for what’s right and rescue people who need rescuing.” A grin appears on Galo’s face. “And when you do, just know that I’ll be there when you need me. We can be heroes together!”

That shining expression on his handsome face, combined with their proximity with just inches separating them, triggers a blaze of heat in the pit of Lio’s stomach. Without thinking, he takes both hands and shoves them against Galo’s chest, pushing them apart. Galo doesn’t seem too offended though; he just continues watching Lio with that omnipresent smile while Lio buckles up his jacket again and secures the helmet atop his head.

“Just... stay in line,” Lio tells him, thankful that the shiny black plastic obscures his face, because he’s probably sure he’s blushing. “And don’t challenge my authority. So long as we’re out here, you follow my direction, got it?”

“Okay, Lio!” Galo says, too agreeable by far.

Lio just gets on his bike and revs up the engine. As they zoom off towards the horizon, he wonders to himself if he will ever win an argument with Galo.

***

The sun dips much lower in the sky before they see any change in the barren desert wasteland that surrounds them.

At first, Lio is convinced that the jagged, shadowy shape rising up over the horizon is a mirage, or maybe a cloud. But as they ride closer, he realizes it’s actually mountains: stark rocky peaks that jut up into the sky like the teeth of some great beast. They tower over the desert, casting fifty-mile long shadows over the flatlands below. Meis simply points towards their base, indicating their destination lies on the far side of those peaks, and they throttle their bikes to approach.

By the time the sun retreats down a valley and the sky turns red and indigo, they reach the foothills. The setting sun took with it the heat of the day, and in its absence Lio’s teeth are beginning to chatter. He knows they’ll burn themselves out if they try to press on like this, so he orders that they should stop and make camp for the night.

In short time, they get a fire going (regular Earth fire, that is, not the mesmerizing pinks and cyans of the flames the Promare made) and Meis and Gueira set to work with their tents. It’s as Lio supervises them that he realizes what a mistake they made.

There are only two tents, and four of them.

Lio starts doing frantic mental math to decide if there’s any way for him to avoid having to share a tent with Galo. But it’s useless: Meis and Gueira deserve to spend their time together, and as aggravating as Lio finds Galo, he’s not about to force him to sleep outside. Lio will just have to... go to sleep as soon as possible, so that he has less time to dwell on it.

Unfortunately, he’s not the only one that appears to realize this.

“Hey, Boss,” drawls Gueira, as they sit by the fire, roasting canned sausages on metal skewers, “looks like you an’ the big guy are gonna be bunking up tonight.”

Galo perks up, a grin on his face, and he waves his metal skewer where he’s speared three sausages at once. “Didja hear that, Lio? We’re together!” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m aware,” Lio mutters, as he primly picks at his own meal, flicking flakes of black sooty ash off of it. He flashes a glare in Galo’s direction. “And stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I mean,” Lio tells him, gesturing vaguely towards him, although Lio himself doesn’t really know what he means, either.

“No, no, this could be good,” says Meis. “Some quality time with one another might make your blazing souls even stronger together.”

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I was thinking!” exclaims Galo.

Lio rolls his eyes. “Don’t encourage him,” he tells Meis.

There’s a long silence, which is finally broken by Galo.

“So, do you guys have any idea whose these kidnappers are? What d’you think they want with the Burnish?”

It’s a surprisingly astute question for him; Lio constantly has to remind himself that Galo’s head is full of more than just hot air.

“I don’t know,” Lio says, and for a moment thinks of Freeze Force, with their heavy artillery of anti-Burnish weaponry, and the way they efficiently and brutally rounded up every Burnish man, woman and child they could find, all for the sake of Kray Foresight’s twisted plans. He feels the pit of his stomach turn icy, as though there’s a small piece of that Absolute Zero bullet still lodged in there.

“Can’t be for our powers, since we haven’t got ‘em anymore,” says Gueira.

“Maybe it’s something else,” suggests Meis. “Like... human trafficking or something.”

Lio’s considered that, too. Burnish are some of the most vulnerable members of society right now, potentially easy prey for a person or organization with plenty of supplies and a total lack of morals.

“If they are,” Lio says, “they’ll face the wrath of Mad Burnish.”

“...And Galo!” says Galo. When the other three turn to look at him, he just grins and shrugs. “...What? The way I see it, if there’s people that need rescuing, we’ll save them. And if there’s bad guys that need an ass-kicking, we’ll do that too!”

He flexes, the firelight glinting off his ridiculously huge bicep, and Lio has to stifle a snort of laughter.

They finish their meals by the fire, and Gueira and Meis retire to their tent shortly afterwards. That leaves Galo and Lio, seated on opposite ends of the fire. Overhead, the stars have emerged in infinite multitudes, painting a milky streak across the sky.

Lio stares into the shifting flames, sitting so close to the fire that its thrown-off sparks threaten to ignite in his hair and clothes. He forgets, sometimes, that he’s not fireproof anymore. That was a problem, in the immediate aftermath of losing his Promare. He’d never known how it felt to be burned before; but when he touched a stovetop and felt that sharp bloom of pain, recoiling with blistered fingers, he understood something new about what it meant to fear fire. Why the look of disgust and paranoia so often manifested in the eyes of non-Burnish. Fire was dangerous; he’d always known that, intellectually, but now it took on a new meaning.

Despite his close proximity to the flames, Lio shivers. That, too, was a new revelation after his fire left. He’s always just a bit too cold now, can never get quite warm enough. The same is true for Gueira and Meis; it’s one of the reasons they cling to each other so tightly during the night (well, that and. The other, more obvious reason). It’s a big part of the reason Lio doesn’t hate living out here in the desert as much as he probably should; in the midday heat, bathed in the light of the sun, he can practically ignore the feeling of cold in his bones.

There’s movement on the other side of the fire. Lio pretends not to pay attention and watches Galo in his peripheral vision as he shuffles over until he’s seated next to Lio. There’s a rustling sound, and then Lio feels something soft and warm drape itself over his shoulders.

Lio reaches up and his fingers find the slick, windproof fabric of Galo’s jacket. He glances up and sees Galo, his features ringed with firelight, watching Lio carefully.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Lio says, but he doesn’t remove the jacket.

“You were shivering,” Galo says. “I thought you might be cold. I know that’s a problem with some Burnish, that you’re always a bit chilly. We handed out heated blankets, back in Promepolis.”

Lio doesn’t reply immediately, but he quirks the jacket so that it covers his shoulders more. It’s soft inside, still warm from Galo’s body heat, and it smells like him. Slyly, when he thinks Galo isn’t looking anymore, he glances over at him. Galo’s still watching, though, and their eyes meet for a moment.

Lio quickly glances away again. “...You just wanted another reason to take off your shirt again, didn’t you.”

Galo laughs, and it sparks a feeling of heat between Lio’s ribs, a glowing warmth that feels almost — but not quite — like the Promare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point on, I'll be posting updates to this fic every Thursday, until either the story is complete or my schedule starts to slip, whichever happens first. I have a lot more written, but I just want to pace things out a bit for the sake of consistency (and to give myself plenty of time to edit).  
> Thanks for all your feedback, comments and kudos so far! You all have been wonderful. Hope you enjoy what's to come, because their adventure is just beginning...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this story has original characters in it.

Galo rises with the sun, as always, and opens his eyes to find himself in a fairly cramped tent with Lio curled up beside him.

Careful not to wake him, Galo takes this rare opportunity to observe Lio like this, soft and unguarded. In contrast to his rigid posture and disciplined demeanor while awake, Lio when asleep is all curves and pale skin, knees tucked in close to his chest, soft green hair spilling messily over the floor and catching in the corner of his mouth. It’s cute. It’s risky, Galo knows, being this close. Lio would probably bite his head off if he ever heard somebody call him _cute_. But, well, it’s true.

One of his hands has found its way to Galo’s waist, likely seeking out warmth. Galo runs hot; it’s probably due to his blazing soul.

It’s silly, these feelings he has for Lio. Like the need to protect him; Lio needs no-one’s protection. And he’s made it perfectly clear how he feels in return: he thinks Galo is a loud-mouthed bother who he only puts up with because they saved the world together once, or something. But if that’s the price he has to put up with for the privilege of spending time together, then, well. Galo is allowed to be a little bit selfish.

Sometimes, though, he catches Lio’s eyes on him when he thinks Galo’s not looking, which makes him wonder if all this really is as one-sided as it seems.

He glances back to Lio’s face to find one eye cracked open. His pink-purple eyes catch the morning light, and he’s looking back at Galo, for a moment bleary and unguarded, before consciousness truly dawns on him.

“Good morning,” Galo says, cheerfully.

“Hnzbgm,” Lio grumbles wordlessly, screwing his eyes shut and pulling the blanket tighter over himself. So that morning with the hangover wasn’t a fluke, exactly; Lio’s not really a morning person.

A minute later though, there’s a sudden movement as Lio sits up abruptly, eyes wide awake. He discards the blanket and looks over to Galo. His expression is softer than expected; he seems less than upset to be sharing a tent with him.

“How’d you sleep?” Galo asks.

“Fine,” Lio replies, his tone clipped and curt as always. After a moment though, his gaze softens and his eyes flicker away for a moment. “It was. Warmer than usual,” he adds.

That admission puts a grin on Galo’s face. Mission: Make Lio Feel Good is off to a good start today.

Lio departs from the tent and Galo follows. Outside, the fire is just ashes after Galo extinguished it last night. The sky outside is still pink on the edges, the morning sunlight just barely venturing out across the landscape. Gueira and Meis haven’t risen from their tent yet.

Galo takes down their tent while Lio rekindles the fire. Then, because he figures they have plenty of time before they leave, he heads out for a jog to keep his conditioning up and to survey their surrounding area.

By the time Galo returns, Gueira and Meis have awoken and taken down their tent, and the three Mad Burnish are gathered around the fire, talking quietly over a breakfast of canned beans.

As Galo approaches, he’s hailed by Gueira. “Yo, big guy. See anything interesting while you were down there?”

“Yeah, actually!” Galo replies, sitting down beside them by the fire. “I found something that looks like a road? There’s tire treads that look like a four-wheeled car or truck went through.”

“Sounds like what we’re looking for,” says Meis.

“We’ll follow those tracks and see where they’re going,” says Lio. “And stay alert. We should be prepared for anything... including a fight.”

“Roger that, boss,” Gueira says, cracking his knuckles.

They wrap up breakfast shortly after that, and strike the rest of their campsite, loading supplies back onto their motorbikes. Lio buries their campfire and scuffs out their footprints to cover up evidence they’d been there. Watching him, Galo thinks about how he’d probably done this sort of thing constantly while on the run, always paranoid of being tracked down and apprehended by Freeze Force.

Galo resents Freeze Force for what they did; to Lio, the rest of the Burnish, and to the world. He feels sick to his stomach whenever he remembers that Burning Rescue had allied with them, how he himself had practically handed them Lio and his generals on a silver platter. It’s a strange feeling for Galo, but it’s something that helps him understand Lio a little better, he thinks.

Lio wasn’t lying before. They really _have_ lived very different lives.

They ride out on their bikes, and soon find the road Galo had discovered on his jog. It snakes between the foothills and appears to curve into the mountains up ahead. Multiple sets of tire treads remain in the dusty earth, some of which even look fairly recent. As usual, Lio takes the lead, the rest of them falling into formation behind him.

At least the scenery is more interesting to look at today than it was yesterday, Galo thinks. The hills and mountains jut upwards abruptly and at odd angles into the sky. Though there’s still no evidence of life, plant or otherwise, to speak of, the hills are dotted with peculiar rock formations, metamorphosed into twisting shapes made out of black glass. Galo isn’t certain, but he thinks they must have been formed in the extreme heat of the Great World Blaze, either the first one or the one he and Lio set off. And isn’t _that_ an interesting reminder that what they did _literally_ reshaped the world, likely for generations to come.

The road they’re on begins to climb upwards, gently at first and then steep in parts, so that Galo has to hit the throttle in order to go up the slopes on his motorcycle. It’s a good bike, and he’s confident it can handle this trip, but this kind of terrain is definitely a far cry from the paved streets of Promepolis.

As they climb further into the mountains, the road narrows until they are forced to break formation and ride in single file. They travel in switchbacks up the steep slope of the mountain, with nothing but empty air and a rocky cascade dropping off to one side. The small pebbles and stones kicked up by his rear wheel tumble over the edge and down the landslide with a clatter. He’s not worried about falling, of course; but no one would begrudge him for riding a little further from the edge. It’s just safety! A good firefighter always puts safety first!

They take a break to refuel on a flat precipice near the mountain’s peak. The winds are strong up here, whipping through Galo’s hair once he frees it from his motorcycle helmet. The entire lowlands spread below them, bumpy, glass-studded foothills above the endless wastes. He shields his eyes from the midday sun and squints at the horizon, but he can’t make out the border town they left yesterday; they’ve come so far already.

He glances over to Lio, who has also removed his helmet. He’s standing beside Meis, both of them studying the map that’s spread out across the back of Meis’ bike. Galo doesn’t want to interrupt.

Instead, he just breathes in fresh air, not diesel-scented or choked with dust for once. And then he hears something. It’s distant, but it sounds like a motor revving.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but does anyone else hear that?” he asks Lio and Meis.

They pause in their conversation and listen. Lio’s spine immediately goes ramrod-straight.

“We need to leave this place,” Lio says. “Immediately.”

“Right now? But we haven’t finished refueling,” protests Gueira.

“Did I fucking stutter? I said _now_ ,” Lio orders. Meis and Gueira hastily pack up their belongings and get on their motorcycles. As Lio straddles his own bike, he casts a look back towards Galo. “Good job,” he tells him before putting his helmet back on.

Galo practically glows from the praise, as he dons his own helmet and hops back on his bike, chasing Lio’s dust trail.

They begin their descent down the far side of the mountain. More rocky peaks rise up on the other side, and the road seems to plunge down into the steep, narrow valley that lies between them.

It’s also warmer than before, noticeably so as they descend into the valley. There’s a sulphurous scent in the air that smells mildly of rotten eggs. Galo thinks they might be approaching an area that has active volcanoes.

Another oddity sticks out to Galo during their descent: namely, plants. At first, it’s just a few scrubby bushes and spiky grasses poking out between the dust and the rocks; but further down, there’s some actual green spots, cacti and low, leafy desert trees.

This area must have been spared from the Great World Blaze. Perhaps the mountains on either side shielded the valley in between from the flames. Or maybe one of them, Lio or Galo or both, sensed there was life here and coaxed the Promare away, to burn out somewhere else.

They’ve descended most of the way into the valley when Galo hears it again: the sound of another engine revving, much louder and closer this time. He checks his rear-view and glances ahead, but only sees his three companions, riding ahead down the road.

Then he glances up.

On a bend of the road they just descended, above a steep slope of dirt, gravel and rocks, stand two riders and their motorbikes, silhouetted against the bright sky. They’re both dressed all in black, and even their bikes are all-black. In the moments it takes Galo to register this, they each rev their engines and begin descending, not down the road, but directly down the steep slope towards where Galo and the others are riding.

 _Oh hell no,_ Galo thinks, and revs his accelerator to urge his bike faster. He rapidly closes the gap between himself, Meis, Gueira and Lio.

“We’ve got company!” He shouts, but his voice is swallowed by the thick helmet and the roar of their engines.

Fortunately, Lio and the rest of the gang catch on quick, and accelerate their bikes too in an effort to outrun their pursuers. It seems to work; the two black riders drop down the steep slope onto the road, trailing behind them with a widening gap between their wheels.

At least, it works until they round another bend in the road and see three more black bikes, with helmeted riders astride them, blocking their way forward.

“Fuck!” Galo swears, and cuts the wheel, sending his bike off-road and down the steep embankment slope. It’s less sheer than the mountain cliffs, but it’s still a bracing impact, as Galo’s front wheel shudders over irregular dirt, rocks, and cacti. Up above, he sees Lio, Gueira, and Meis being forced off-road as well, with the black bikes dipping down in pursuit, closing in on the four of them like a pack of wolves on the hunt.

Down below, Galo sees the lower flat portion of the road rapidly approaching. If he can get there first, he’s pretty sure that his bike is fast enough to outrun them on the straightaway.

He’s so focused on his destination that he doesn’t notice the rider approaching in his blind spot until it’s too late.

The black-clad biker carries in one hand a long, narrow rod, which they jab into the spokes of Galo’s rear wheel. Immediately, his bike screeches and starts to spin out of control. The split-second in which it happens doesn’t give him enough time to react, and the rear wheel rises up above the front as his bike flips over, flinging Galo out of his seat and into thin air.

He has just enough presence of mind to tuck in his chin and brace himself, before his body impacts the earth with a sickening _crunch_ and then continues to tumble down the steep slope. Gravel scrapes against the hard plastic of his helmet, and pain blooms into his shoulder as the world spins around him.

At some point, mercifully, he blacks out.

***

When he comes to, he’s on the ground and Lio, Gueira and Meis are beside him, forced off their motorbikes and onto their knees.

They’re surrounded on all sides by black-clad bikers; it looks to be eight or nine of them now. Many of them brandish assorted weapons, guns and long knives and metal batons, all of which are pointed at the four of them.

One of the bikers steps forward. He’s wielding a long, extendable metal rod; Galo recognizes him as the rider that took out his own bike. He uses the rod to lift up the underside of Lio’s helmet, forcing his gaze upwards.

“Well, well,” the black rider drawls, in a deep baritone. “Who might we have here?”

The other helmeted folk seize them and forcibly remove all of their helmets. As one of them touches Galo, he feels a spike of vicious pain in his shoulder, and hisses through his teeth. _Fuck._ It’s probably dislocated, he thinks.

As the three Mad Burnish are unmasked, the lead rider takes a step back as though in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. Lio Fotia,” he says. “And Gueira and Meis. Now that’s a sight for sore eyes. Talk about a trip down memory lane.”

“Fuck off,” hisses Lio. “Who the hell are you? What do you want with us?”

“Hey, now,” drawls the black rider. “That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it? I expected proper manners from you. Especially after we brought out a whole welcome party just for your sake.” He reaches up, unfastens his bike helmet and removes it from his head.

The man underneath has wiry black hair and a partial beard. Intense brows frame his dark red-brown eyes. He’s smiling, but it’s not a kind smile as he looks down at Lio. His grin is wolfish, and the sunlight glints off his pointed canine teeth.

Recognition flashes in Lio’s eyes as he glares up at the man.

“Royce,” he growls. “What the hell are you doing here.”

“Hey, now. Is that how you greet an old war buddy? Been a while since we rode together as Mad Burnish, but that’s not the sorta thing you can just forget, y’know?”

“I thought you were in prison,” says Lio.

“Yeah, funny thing about that...” Royce spins his baton, and meanders back and forth across the dirt. “About a year ago. There was this really big fire? Dunno if you remember that. After it burned out, all our powers were gone,” he says. “And there was this great big, smoking hole in the walls of our prison. I figured it was a sign that us Burnish were finally meant to live free.”

Lio’s gaze sharpens. “It’s you,” he says with clarity. “You’re the one who’s been abducting Burnish. Where are you taking them?!”

“Ah, that,” says Royce, “is a secret. But since we’re such old pals, and you guys are fellow Burnish, I’ll gladly show you... except.” His smirk drops, turning into a scowl. He slinks up to Galo and presses his baton underneath his chin, forcing his head up and to the side, digging its point into the soft skin just above his Adam’s apple. “I don’t recognize this one. He isn’t Burnish, is he? Why is there an outsider in your group, Lio?” His voice drops to a sinister growl. “We don’t like outsiders here.”

“I’m—“ Galo starts to say, but Lio cuts him off.

“His name is Galo,” says Lio. “And he’s my— my partner.”

A change passes over Royce’s expression. A sly grin returns to his face. “Well. It’s like that, is it?” He releases Galo’s head from his grasp, and then closes his extendable baton with a snap. “Well then. Your... _partner_ can stay with you. But. If he so much as twitches a finger outta line...” Royce drags a thumb across his own neck. “Do you understand?”

“He’ll behave,” Lio says, and glances over towards Galo, “...Right?” Galo swallows, and nods as vigorously as he can with the pain in his shoulder.

“All righty then. Gather up their bikes,” Royce orders the other helmeted bikers. Four of the riders depart, leaving five by their side. “And lower your weapons, for Flame’s sake. These four are my guests from here on out, got it?”

The black riders obediently holster their guns and sheathe their knives, though it’s clear they could easily draw them again, if they had reason to.

“Follow me,” says Royce. “I’m about to blow your fuckin’ minds.”

Royce and their entourage lead them down a steep, rocky footpath that descends down a hill. Its steps are worn, as though frequently traveled. The scent of sulphur is even stronger here, and Galo notices a long plume of steam rising up on the far side of a rocky cliff up ahead. As they skirt the edge of that cliff and come into view of the valley below, Galo lets out an inadvertent gasp of amazement.

It’s a city. Or, the makings of one, anyway. A tremendous waterfall pours down a cliff into the basin of the valley. Dotted all over the green, fertile land between stark cliffs are houses and other structures made of stone and clay and similar materials, built into cliff walls or into the gently sloping hillside that leads down to a steaming, turquoise lake at its lowest point. Stone staircases criss-cross the landscape, and there are people walking on them; people bathing in the water, people harvesting crops from the fields of the valley.

Towering over it all is an enormous mountain made of black rock, with glowing-orange rivulets of lava trickling down its sides. Built into the volcano is a massive building, which looks different from the other structures in the valley; far older, yet more modern in design, made of steel and concrete, with torches burning on its exterior that make it look like nothing less than a literal castle.

Royce pauses on the cliff’s edge, gesturing grandly to the valley below.

“Welcome to Tartaros,” he says. “The first and only city built and inhabited entirely by Burnish.”


	6. Chapter 6

“A city that’s entirely made up of Burnish? How is that possible?” Lio asks, once he gets past the feeling of jaw-dropping awe of seeing Tartaros for the first time.

“Well, it was a combination of good luck, and seizing the chance when it was within our grasp,” says Royce, as he continues to lead their party down the steep stone steps into the fertile valley below. “Us Burnish have been outcasts from society for so long, it’s about time something goes our way, right?”

Lio tears his eyes away from the tremendous view of the city to scrutinize Royce, instead. “I never imagined you as a builder, Royce. Thought that burning things down was more your scene.”

Royce shrugs. “People change, don’t they?” He looks to Lio with a sly grin on his face. “I never imagined I’d see you in a relationship with a Flameless, either. Seems a lot changed for the both of us after the second Great Burn.”

Lio casts a glance back towards Galo. As he does, he’s surprised to find the man wearing a look of pain, sweating profusely and clutching at his shoulder, which is positioned at an odd angle relative to his body.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Lio tells Royce, and then drops to the back of the line to attend to Galo.

Despite his obvious pain, Galo manages to force a smile when Lio joins him at his side. “Hey, Lio.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Fell off my bike,” Galo says, teeth grit in obvious discomfort, “but I’ll be fine. I’m the Great Galo Thymos! My blazing soul is stronger than any pain I might feel.”

“You absolute idiot,” Lio says, concern mingling with a hint of fondness in his voice. “We need to get this treated immediately. Don’t move it or go anywhere,” Lio orders, before returning to Royce’s side.

“How’s your beefcake?” Royce asks, a sly grin on his face.

Lio ignores the veiled jab and the warmth it invites into the pit of his stomach. “He’s hurt and in need of medical attention. One of your men must have knocked him off his bike.”

“Yeaaaahh, sorry for roughing up your boy toy,” Royce says, although he seems less than repentant. “Living like we do, these sorts of things happen all the time, y’know? Once you're all set up in your rooms, I’ll send a doctor by to take a look at him.”

“...Our rooms?”

“Of course! You four are my guests, after all. I wouldn’t be a good host if I left you wanting for anything, now would I?” Royce drawls, gesturing grandly with his hands as they arrive at the bottom of the stone stairs.

The Burnish village surrounds them now, and Lio has to admit that it looks... primitive, but nice, especially compared with some of the slums he’s seen Burnish living out of, and considering it was only recently built in the past year. Many buildings are still obviously under construction, and as they pass by one, a man looks up from where he’s laying clay bricks and gives them a cheerful wave. Lio feels a swell of pride for his people: Burnish have always been resourceful, able to survive on very little and make do with even less. It makes sense that, given the right opportunities and more than the bare minimum, Burnish would stop surviving and start _thriving_.

A steaming hot river winds through the center of town, spilling out into the shallow, turquoise-blue lake in the lowest part of the valley. There are children playing by the water, people washing clothes, people standing and talking and working. It’s hot here, and humid thanks to the steam that constantly rises up out of the hot spring. The omnipresent cold in Lio’s bones is almost nonexistent in this place.

Being here, in this almost-paradise, provokes a strong feeling inside of Lio. This was exactly what he’d wanted for so long, wasn’t it? A home for all Burnish; a place where they could live freely, without fear of being persecuted or apprehended by Freeze Force. He almost can’t believe this place is real. Now he understands the reason for secrecy; if the outside world discovered this city, it might not stay a Burnish paradise forever.

It’s not that Lio believes all non-Burnish are bad; Galo is a prime example of that, as well as some of his fellows at Burning Rescue. But most others — the Flameless, Royce called them — were, in Lio’s experience anyway, at best indifferent if not actively bigoted towards Burnish and their plight. Even in Promepolis, by all accounts the most progressive place in the world when it came to Burnish rights, bigotry was everywhere and most Burnish still lived in segregated communities. Even though they now were indistinguishable from ordinary humans. It’s one of the reasons Lio left.

Yes, he thinks, this place would be absolutely perfect, except for...

“Lord Royce!” A young man who they pass on the street stops to greet them, removing his hat as he approaches. “Who are these men with you? Are they newcomers?”

“They’re our honored guests,” Royce tells him. “So treat them with respect, got it?”

“Of course, Lord Royce,” says the young man. He traces the shape of a triangle with his index finger in the air. “Fire be with you.”

“Fire be with you,” Royce says, and the boy departs. 

Lio gives him a strange look. “ _Lord_ Royce?”

Royce laughs, a bit guiltily, and scratches a hand in his beard. “Ahaha. I didn’t ask them to call me that. But who am I to tell them to stop? All Burnish are free to do as they please, here.”

“Uh-huh,” says Lio skeptically.

They continue up the stairs set into the grassy hillside until they reach a large building that’s right on the shores of the steaming river. Royce opens the front door and gestures within with a flourish. 

“Your quarters,” he tells the four of them. “I had this place built personally to house distinguished guests such as yourselves. It even has a private hot spring in the basement!”

“Wow,” says Gueira by Lio’s side. “This is a whole lot better than camping out in the desert, huh, boss?”

“Everything you need will be provided for you here,” Royce continues. “I’ll even leave my second-in-command, Harley, here with you to be sure your needs are met.”

One of the other helmeted riders joins Royce beside the door. Their body is absolutely massive, standing a full head above Royce, and they have an intimidating aura with metal studs in their shoulder pads. Incongruously, their black motorcycle helmet has two triangular shapes on top that resemble pointed ears, like a cat’s.

“Harley’s my right hand, the most capable person I know. Just let them know if you need anything, and they’ll be certain you will receive it.” The black biker says nothing, but nods in assent.

Royce takes a step back from their group. “Well! I’d say that concludes your tour for now. Feel free to make yourselves at home here, and you’re welcome to explore Tartaros to your heart’s content. Except for the Temple of Flame, of course, that’s off-limits. Now, if you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to in preparation for the festival we are having tonight.” Royce smiles his sharp-toothed smile. “As my guests and former Mad Burnish, I would be honored if you could attend.”

“Thanks. We’ll think about it,” says Lio. He gestures towards Galo. “What about treating his injuries?”

“Oh, yes,” Royce says, batting a hand at them, “I’ll be sure to send a doctor to treat your man-candy as soon as possible. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll see you tonight,” he says, and departs, taking his remaining three men with him, heading uphill towards the massive black building set into the volcano.

Harley escorts the four of them inside of the house. As soon as the door behind them closes, Lio reaches out to Galo and grabs his good arm.

“Come with me,” he says, and leads him into the nearest bedroom.

Predictably, there’s just one large bed in the center of the room. Lio guides Galo to sit down on it with a hand placed firmly against his chest. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Galo explodes with questions.

“Lio, who was that guy? Why did he act like he knows you? What is this place? What’s a ‘Flameless’? And why did you tell him we were together?”

“Shut up, not now,” Lio tells him. “Hold still. I’m going to re-set your shoulder. This will hurt.” He pauses, searches the room, and finds an unlit candle on a side table, which he hands to Galo. “Here. You might want to bite down on this for the pain.”

“Mhh, okay,” Galo agrees. He takes the candle and places it between his teeth. “M’reary.”

Lio grasps firmly, with one hand on Galo’s thick bicep and the other placed against his shoulder. He whimpers in pain, and Lio takes a deep breath and counts to three, before forcing the shoulder joint back into its socket with a soft pop.

Galo bites clean through the candle. “GYAAAAAAAAUUUUGH!!”

“That should do it,” says Lio, as Galo’s yelling fades to a whimper.

Galo nods in agreement, before spitting out a chunk of wax onto the floor. He looks up at Lio, smiling weakly. “It feels better now. Thanks!”

“You’ll need to secure that in a sling for a few weeks. That means no more riding until it’s healed. Try to avoid doing anything else crazy until then, too,” Lio says. “Although I can imagine that will be difficult for you.”

“Yeah, no promises there,” Galo says with a grin.

Now Lio approaches his side and sits down on the bed beside him. Even in a hot, humid place like this, Galo’s body radiates warmth, and Lio has to fight the urge to lean into it.

“You sure knew how to handle that kind of injury,” Galo observes. “Did you used to do that a lot, before?”

“Often enough, yes.” Lio gazes into the middle distance, remembering his time as Mad Burnish leader. “The Promare inside of us would heal most of our injuries, but some wounds were too big or complex for them to handle. Like a dislocated shoulder, or a missing limb.” He doesn’t say, _like Kray Foresight’s arm_.

Galo makes a _hmmm_ sound of understanding. “You would make a good EMT, Lio.”

Lio is silent for a moment. Then, he heaves a resigned sigh. “So,” he says. “You have questions.”

“Uh, yeah,” says Galo. “Who was that guy? Why did it seem like you knew each other?”

“That man is Royce,” Lio says. “And he was the leader of Mad Burnish before me.”

“Do you trust him? You said he went to prison.”

“ _Shhh!_ ” Lio hushes him, and continues in an almost-whisper, “Not so loud. We can’t be sure they’re not listening. And _no,_ of course I don’t trust him.” He frowns. “Royce is... cunning, and charismatic, but also violent and ruthless. Somewhere like this is the _last_ place I’d expect to find him.”

“Yeah, speaking of that,” Galo says, “What is this place, anyway?”

Lio shrugs. “I know as much about it as you do. But it seems... nice, at least,” he admits.

“Is this place really made up of all Burnish? They called me ‘Flameless’ — what’s that?”

“As far as I know... this is where all the kidnapped Burnish were taken,” Lio says. “And it’s a Burnish word for non-Burnish, like you. They don’t take kindly to non-Burnish here.”

“Why’d you tell him we’re in a relationship?” Something bright flickers in Galo’s blue eyes, which makes Lio’s stomach lurch.

He forces himself to glance away. “Because, I — I panicked, okay?” Lio admits. “They were probably going to kill you, so I just... told the first lie I could think of that would convince them to spare your life.”

“...Oh,” says Galo. He glances to Lio, and then towards the floor. “You know,” he says, uncharacteristically hesitant, “I wouldn’t mind. If it wasn’t a lie.”

Icy hot terror grips in Lio’s chest like a vise. “We are _not_ having this conversation right now.”

“Why not? I’m just saying, it would be so much easier to convince them we’re in a relationship if we were _actually_ in a relationship,” Galo says, way too chipper in Lio’s eyes. “So, how about it? I like you, Lio,” he says, as if it’s really that easy to just admit.

Lio stands up abruptly. His heart pounds in his chest, so loud he’s certain Galo can hear. He can’t bring himself to look at Galo, to see the earnest expression on his handsome face.

“...I can’t,” Lio tells him. “I have... way too much on my mind to deal with this right now, Galo.”

“Oh, okay,” Galo says, sounding a bit crestfallen, though not as much as one would expect after getting rejected. “But like... later? When you have less on your mind. We can talk about it then?”

Lio sighs. “You really _are_ persistent.”

“Well, of course! It’s all because of my blazing—“

“—Your blazing firefighter’s soul, yes, I know,” Lio cuts him off. He’s really not getting out of this one without some kind of compromise, is he? “Listen, Galo. I mean it when I say I can’t handle this right now. I have a lot of questions that need answers, and I’m still not sure what Royce’s intentions are. But,” he concedes, like pulling teeth, “after that. If you still want to. We can. Talk about it,” he grits out, still not facing Galo.

“ _Yesss!_ ” Galo exclaims. Lio doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s pumping his fist victoriously. “Oh, but just so you know, I think everyone thinks we’re in a relationship already. Even Gueira and Meis do.”

“...I’m aware,” says Lio.

“So, like, when we’re out in public, we should act like it,” Galo says. “Otherwise Royce and his gang might get suspicious.”

 _Damn it,_ Galo makes a compelling point, even though Lio is ninety percent sure he only said it to have an excuse to be closer to Lio.

“ _Fine_ ,” Lio says. “But only when we’re in public. And please don’t do anything that will embarrass me.”

“You got it,” Galo says with a grin. “Just you wait. I’m gonna be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever seen!”

Despite the ridiculous situation they’re in, warm fondness blooms within Lio’s chest at Galo’s words.

How was this his life right now?

***

The doctor drops by a short while after that. He examines Galo’s arm, nods with approval upon seeing how Lio has successfully re-set his shoulder, and fashions a sling for him to wear. He leaves them some painkillers, which Lio is worried will make Galo act even weirder than usual, but Galo refuses, claiming yet again that his blazing soul will overcome any pain.

Afterwards, they explore the rooms of the house. There's a large entryway and dining area on the main floor, as well as two bedrooms and a washroom. Gueira and Meis have claimed the other bedroom, leaving Lio to — yet again — share the single bed in his room with Galo. At least it's larger than their tent. A set of stairs lead down into the basement, which contains their private hot spring, while the staircase up leads to—

"Lio! This place has a _balcony!_ " calls Galo from the top of the flight of stairs.

Lio follows him up top. The second floor is unfinished, and open to the air, but it has a small sitting area and a railing that overlooks the village below. They're pretty high up on the sloping hill, so he gets a clear view of nearly the entire valley, with the blue lake glittering in its basin. The air is humid, thick with steam from the hot waterfall that spills down the ravine. Up above, the dark shape of the volcano silently looms.

"Check this place out. It's like a vacation home," says Galo excitedly.

"We're not on vacation," Lio reminds him.

"I know, but... this is so much better than a cave by a frozen lake, or a laboratory or something. I'm glad the Burnish you were searching for weren't actually kidnapped or taken by human traffickers."

Lio thinks so too. But still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something off about the place. It's probably the ominous-looking building set into the side of the volcano; the Temple of Flame. 

Once he's had his fill of the (admittedly quite nice) view, he returns to the lower level. Galo follows him, as though stuck to him like a burr. When they're back on the base floor, they're greeted by Harley, Royce's henchperson who is still wearing the cat-eared motorcycle helmet.

"Greetings, master Lio," they say in a voice that is higher and softer than expected, given their large stature. "There is food for you in the dining area if you are hungry."

"Oh, awesome! I could eat a horse," says Galo, following Harley into the other room.

Lio’s not particularly hungry, so instead he goes looking for Gueira and Meis.

He finds them in their own room. To his relief, they’re still mostly clothed.

“Yooo, Boss,” drawls Gueira. “This place is super nice.” On his other side, Meis waves lazily in greeting.

“You two had better not get too comfortable,” Lio says sternly. “We don’t know exactly what to expect in here.”

“Awwww, c’mon Boss,” says Meis, “it’s all right to take a load off, once in a while. This is waaaay better than all those lousy desert motels. And it’s full of us Burnish!”

“Yeah, and besides,” says Gueira with a foxlike smile, “Seems like you’re getting a head start, after those _interesting_ sounds we heard coming from you and Galo’s room earlier.”

Lio flushes red. “I was helping him re-set his shoulder.”

“Right, suuuure you were,” Gueira drawls.

“You’re one to talk, Gueira. You must know how little soundproofing yours and Meis’ tent has,” Lio shoots back at him. “At least we weren’t _actually_ doing anything indecent.”

“Mmm-hmm, well, if you ever need relationship advice, you know that me an’ Meis have been going strong for... what, three years, is it now? So you can count on us.”

“I— I can handle this myself!” Lio objects. Then, upon reflection, he sobers up a bit. “Actually, Gueira, I _could_ use your input. Not about Galo, though.”

Gueira gestures towards a chair. “Have a seat, and you’ve got my ear, boss.”

“What do you make of this place? Of Royce?”

Gueira shrugs. “I’m just as shell-shocked as you, I think. Seems like Royce actually made good on Mad Burnish’s dream of founding a society where Burnish can live free.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “I really did think we’d seen the last of him after you kicked him out of our crew.”

“Yeah... me, too,” says Lio.

He turns the memory over in his mind. There was a job that had gone bad, a building slated to burn that Royce said was vacant. After Mad Burnish ringed its circumference with towering pink and azure flames, that’s when Lio began hearing the screams.

He’d stormed up to Royce, the mastermind behind this whole affair. “I thought you said this place would be empty!”

“So what if it isn’t?” Royce drawled. “It’s empty of _Burnish_ , anyway.”

“That was— you just—“ Lio couldn’t see clearly through the fire that was flickering inside of him, kicking up in response to his blaze of emotions. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this!”

Royce just shrugged, backlit with Burnish flames. “The public already thinks we’re terrorists, don’t they? I say, why not give them a reason to believe it?”

Sparks crackled between Lio’s teeth. “You’re despicable,” he told him. “Mad Burnish stands for _freedom_ , not death and destruction!”

Royce had just scoffed, flames licking out of his own palms. “Listen, kid—“

“I’m not a kid,” Lio interrupted, although he was only eighteen at the time.

“Kid, I know you’re a hotshot, but this is how we adults handle things. Now, _get in line.”_

“ _No_ ,” Lio refused. “I’m going to show you what Mad Burnish means. Starting now!” Flames rocketed out of his palms and feet, as he propelled himself into the air with his fire. He set off a small detonation in midair to fling his body with enough force that sent him crashing through a fifth-story window of the blazing building, where the screams were emanating from.

Lio shook shards of glass out of his hair and brushed them off his skin, as the Burnish fire inside of him worked to close up his shallow wounds. He looked around the smoke-choked floor, listening hard, until he picked up the sounds of whimpering and coughing behind a door.

He blasted through the wooden door, and there on the other side spied two human figures, huddled with their arms around each other as the building burned down around them. They looked up as soon as he entered — two young women — and both screamed at the sight of him. Lio couldn’t blame them, because he probably looked like a vision of hell: eyes glowing pink, hair swirling in the smoke and hot air, flames trailing from his palms.

As soon as he saw their reaction of fear, he extinguished his flames. “It’s okay,” he told them. “I’m here to help.”

His words were met with more screaming, while the building around them continued to disintegrate. Right. He’d have to come up with a plan to save them, and quickly, because the room was starting to fill with black smoke. He evaluated his escape routes, but the only way down to ground level was already engulfed in flames. That left the windows. He blew out the nearest one with a controlled blast of fire, then turned to face the two women again.

“I can—“ he’d started to offer to carry them out, but at the same time the words formed in his mind, he realized it wouldn’t work. His body became blazing hot whenever he flew, which wasn’t an issue with fellow Burnish, but these women weren’t Burnish. If he tried to touch them as he was, his flesh would sear them.

That left one other option. Concentrating his will and intent, he grasped hold of the flames in the lower portions of the structure, willing them to solidify into a construct, obsidian-black and stretching from the fifth floor to ground level. He opened his eyes, and saw he’d built a giant slide; not his most elegant construction, but it would work in a pinch.

He turned back to face the two women. “There’s your way out,” he told them. When they still wouldn’t budge, looks of fear across their faces, Lio decided to use that fear of him to his advantage. He willed the flames to gather around his body and crystallize into Burnish armor. He brandished clawed hands at them, flames swirling within his palms. “LEAVE!!!”

That spurred them to action. The two women ran to the window. One of the girls helped her friend onto the slide and then followed suit herself. Beneath them, a _CRRREAK_ echoed up from the lower floors, and the building began to list to one side.

Now Lio needed to get out of there, too. Flames gathered around his hands and feet as he blasted his way out of a window, launching himself in the direction of the Mad Burnish rendezvous point.

As soon as he landed, Royce stormed up to him. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?!”

“Fixing your mistakes,” Lio told him, “and restoring the honor of Mad Burnish.”

“You’re delusional, kid,” Royce said. “And now we’re behind schedule. Firefighters are on their way right now, so we gotta jet.”

“This isn't over. Mad Burnish shouldn't act like this. We can start fires without harming innocent people in the process.”

Royce stepped closer to him, until their faces were just inches apart. Normally, he towered over Lio, but with his Burnish armor on, they stood eye to eye.

“You think you’re hot shit, don’t you,” growled Royce. “Acting like you know what’s best for Mad Burnish. Is that right, Lio? You think you’d be a better leader than me?”

From behind his helmet, Lio glanced around him at the other members of Mad Burnish, who were watching their confrontation in stunned silence. He did some quick mental calculations. He could bow down to Royce’s authority, and maybe avoid getting kicked off the team. Mad Burnish were like his family; he couldn’t afford to lose them. But Royce’s reckless disregard for human life was destroying their reputation. They were proving to the world that the Burnish were exactly the kind of dangerous monsters everybody thought they were. And if Lio really wanted to fight for Burnish rights, he couldn’t let that happen.

That left Royce. If Lio wanted to challenge his authority, then Royce wouldn’t step down without a fight. Royce’s Burnish powers were strong, and he had the advantage of years of experience over Lio. But even at maximum strength, his power couldn’t come close to matching Lio’s. No-one could; there was a white-hot energy inside him, fueled by righteous anger, that gave Lio unparalleled control over his fire. At his full power, Lio had yet to meet any Burnish that could equal him.

“Yes, I do,” Lio told Royce. “I’m challenging you for the leadership of Mad Burnish.”

Royce gave a low chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Looks like you’ve got some balls after all.” He took a step back from Lio. “Tonight. Sundown, outside our hideout. We’ll settle this, with all of Mad Burnish watching us.”

“I’ll see you there,” Lio said, and willed his motorbike construct into existence. He straddled the bike and, revving its nonexistent engine, rode away from Royce and the rest of them, leaving long burning tracks in his wake.

They met again at sunset on the rocky cliff beside the cave Mad Burnish had claimed as their temporary hideout. Royce stood on the edge of the cliff, backlit by the setting sun, his long, dark shadow stretching all the way to the tips of Lio’s boots. The other members of Mad Burnish gathered at the edge of the cave to watch their showdown.

They fought, explosively.

After the smoke cleared, Lio held Royce down with a boot across his neck, the point of a flaming blade hovering an inch above his face. He released him and Royce scrambled to his feet, chest heaving, sputtering and leaking smoke from the corners of his mouth.

“It’s over,” Lio told him, still holding out the sword. “You aren’t welcome in Mad Burnish anymore, so get out. Don’t let me see your face here again.”

Royce spat at Lio’s feet, which sizzled when it hit the ground. He didn’t reply, but the flare of hatred in his eyes was answer enough. With visible effort, he constructed a motorbike — crooked and incomplete, but functional — and rode off into the gathering dusk.

That was the last time any of them saw or heard of him for many months. Eventually, word got back to Lio that Royce had been captured — arrested and tried for murder by means of arson, and had been placed in a high-security prison, designed to contain high-risk Burnish criminals. He’d figured that was the end of it.

Then events came to a head, and Lio set the world on fire. Now, a year later, and here Royce was again, in the unlikeliest place imaginable.

Lio doesn’t know what to make of it. But then, he could never have anticipated any of this: not teaming up with a firefighter, or piloting a mech, or losing all of their Burnish powers in the second Great Blaze, or saving the world.

He supposes the least he can do about it is to try and understand what kind of city this place — Tartaros — is supposed to be. He bids Gueira and Meis good-bye and walks towards the front door.

Standing between him and the door is Harley, Royce’s henchperson. They still have the cat-eared motorcycle helmet on their head. Behind the black plastic visor, Lio can sense their eyes watching him.

“I’m going outside,” Lio tells them.

“Will you be on your own?” Harley asks. 

“I’m coming with him!” A familiar voice echoes from back in the hallway. Lio looks over his shoulder to see Galo, his arm in a sling, exiting his (their?) room to join them at Lio’s side. “I wanna explore this place, too! And how better to do it than together with my boyfriend?” His free hand finds its way to the small of Lio’s back. 

Lio promptly jabs a sharp elbow into his side, discreet enough that Harley doesn’t seem to notice. Galo lets out a small whimper.

Harley holds open the door for them. “You may leave,” they say. “Just be sure to return by sundown. Lord Royce requests your presence at the Fire Festival tonight.”

“Okay, bye!” Galo calls cheerfully over his shoulder.

They walk outside, and when the door closes behind them, Lio pulls away abruptly.

“ _Boundaries_ , Galo. Ever heard of them?”

Galo continues wearing that insufferable grin. “I thought we were pretending to be a couple,” he says.

“That does _not_ give you permission to — to _feel me up_ ,” Lio tells him. He still feels a warmth in his lower back where Galo’s hand was touching it.

Galo appears thoughtful for a second. “You know,” he says, “We did share a mind-meld inside of a mech cockpit. And you gave me your Promare.” The smile returns to his face. “Compared to those things, what’s a little lower-back touching between bros?”

“We are _not_ ,” Lio says, “ _bros_.”

“Then what are we, Lio?” Galo’s voice is doing that thing again where it gets unfairly deep, and it’s wreaking havoc with Lio’s insides.

“We aren’t. Dating,” Lio tells him through grit teeth. “Everyone just _thinks_ we are.”

“They’ll probably notice if we’re not acting like a couple at all, though,” Galo observes. “...Can I at least hold your hand?”

Lio gives an exasperated sigh, then holds out his hand without looking at him. Galo takes it with his good arm, and his massive, rough hand totally dwarfs Lio’s own. He’s so warm, and Lio can feel the pulse flutter beneath his touch.

“Your hand is so much colder than I remember,” Galo says at an almost-whisper. “Back when you still had your Promare, I remember it was almost too hot to handle.”

“Shut up,” Lio tells him, and blessedly he does for the rest of the way until they reach what seems to be the central town square. It’s made of flat cobblestone slabs, arranged in an approximate circle. Right now, it’s busy with activity, with people running to and fro across the square, pushing wheeled carts, setting up torches and hanging lanterns from the edge roofs of houses.

“Excuse me?” A voice echoes up from below Lio’s eye level. He looks down, and there’s a young boy there, peering up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Are you Mister Lio?”

Lio crouches so that he’s at eye level with the kid. “Yeah, that’s me,” he says, voice soft. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Lio, too!” The boy grins a gap-toothed grin. “My mama said you’re a hero!”

Lio gives a surprised laugh. “Haha— did she, now?”

A young woman hurries to the boy’s side. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse him— oh my Fire,” she gasps in surprise as soon as she sees Lio. “It’s really you, you’re here. I mean, when I heard you’d arrived in town for the festival, I thought maybe someone was telling a joke.”

“Um—“ Lio looks to her, trying to see if he recognizes her from his past. “Hello there.”

“I’m sorry. You may not remember me, but I’m Zara,” she says. “You— Mad Burnish freed me when I was taken by Freeze Force, four years ago. I was pregnant with him at the time, and—“ she squeezes the little boy’s hand in hers. “Basically, we both owe you our lives. So I named him after you. I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course that’s fine. I’m glad you’re both doing well,” Lio tells her. He nods to the boy. “Looks like he’s growing up into a little firecracker.”

“When I grow up, I wanna shoot flames like you, mister Lio!” says the boy. “An’ ride a motorcycle and fly in the sky! Pchhhewww!”

“Ahaha, well,” Lio laughs awkwardly, “I don’t really... do that anymo—“

“Hey, Lio!” “Is that Lio?” “Lio’s here!”

A crowd of people quickly gathers. People pause what they’re doing and approach them in the center of the square. Lio sees faces young and old, men and women and in between, of every color and creed imaginable. Some faces he recognizes as the missing Burnish he was tracking down; others are vaguely familiar, that he might have met a very long time ago. A number of them, to his surprise, are sporting visible brand marks in the shape of a triangle, which Lio recognizes as the community of Burnish he’d liberated earlier that year. He thought he’d sent them on their way to Promepolis; yet somehow, they all ended up in Tartaros instead.

No matter who they are, young or old, familiar or not, they all seem overjoyed to see Lio.

“He was the leader of Mad Burnish after Lord Royce,” said one woman.

“I heard he’s the one that stopped Kray Foresight,” said an older man. “He got rid of Freeze Force and set thousands of Burnish free!”

“You broke me out of that icy prison!”

“He was the strongest Burnish I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re my hero, Lio!”

“Hey, now, everybody,” Galo says, stepping in. He rests a heavy and warm hand on Lio’s shoulder and leans over him protectively. “I’m sure that Lio’s just as happy to see you all as you are to see him. But hey, let’s not overwhelm him, huh? Maybe just one at a time.”

Lio feels a warm rush of gratitude. He doesn’t know how Galo sensed he was overwhelmed, but he’d stepped in regardless, with all that boundless confidence that made him so obnoxious and charming.

“Who’re you?” asks a small child, squinting up at Galo.

A momentarily betrayed expression flashes across Galo’s face; he isn’t used to people not recognizing him. Then it’s replaced with his signature grin. “I’m Lio’s partner! The Great Galo Thymos!”

A murmur passes through the crowd, with some people nodding their heads, while others look nonplussed.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” asks the child again.

“Shirts restrain my blazing soul!” He proclaims. He looks around the square. “So, are you guys having some sort of festival here...?”

“Yes! The Fire Festival is tonight,” says an older woman. “We’ve been preparing the harvest for weeks. You simply must attend, Master Lio!”

“Sounds cool,” says Galo. “Do you guys need help setting things up?”

The woman shakes her head. “You two are Lord Royce’s honored guests. No need to trouble yourselves with menial labor. And you have an injury!” She gestures at Galo’s arm sling.

“Are you sure? I’m great at picking stuff up and putting it down,” Galo tells her, and to demonstrate he reaches down and lifts up a small child with one arm, placing them gently atop his good shoulder. “See?”

“Well...” The woman looks conflicted. “I suppose we could use somebody tall to help with hanging the fire lights...”

“If you do, then Galo’s your man!” He says enthusiastically. He motions to leave, but then pauses and turns back to Lio. “Hey... are you gonna be okay on your own for a little while?”

Lio smirks. “I’ve survived worse.”

“All right! See you later, starlight,” Galo says with a bright smile, before following the older woman to go hang up lanterns, with the kid still riding on his broad shoulders.

Lio is left with a cluster of small children and curious preteens gathered around, clamoring for him to tell them stories of his time as a Burnish freedom fighter. But in the moment, all he can think of is Galo, who was willing to drop everything to help a little old lady finish her chores.

Damn it, he thinks. He _really_ should have put his foot down harder about the whole nickname thing.

But. _Starlight._ He supposes that one’s not too bad. As far as nicknames go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, i love hearing your comments and feedback, so pls don't hesitate to share your thoughts on the story so far!!


	7. Chapter 7

As the sun dips behind the looming black volcano and darkness falls across the valley, Tartaros comes alive with torches and lanterns as the Fire Festival begins.

Galo watches it all from the balcony on the second floor of their guest house, having returned there after several hours of work helping the villagers set up. Lio had returned with him too, muttering “Children are exhausting,” and shortly thereafter passed out in their bed. But Galo’s too wired to sleep, so instead he takes advantage of their great view to watch the Fire Festival get into full swing. As a firefighter, he’s conflicted. He hates fires, but loves festivals.

His thoughts drift to Lio, as they regularly do. Thoughts about Lio are like a holding pattern in his mind that he couldn’t escape, even if he wanted to. He thinks about Lio’s lie to Royce, telling him that he and Galo were a couple. It’s yet another example of how quick and clever Lio is; Galo admires him for that. Still, he wonders why _that_ was the very first thing Lio could think of to say. It sure feels convenient to him... almost like a part of Lio wanted it to be true.

Not that Galo minds playing along, of course. Any excuse to touch Lio is a good one in his book. Even if Lio has sharp edges and a tendency to snap. Galo doesn’t care; he can take the heat, if it means getting closer to him.

As he looks out across the valley, he notices another procession of torch-bearers descending in formation down the hill from the Temple of Flame and approaching their house. As they draw closer, he recognizes the black-clad riders from before, flanking a person in the center dressed in bright colors, who could only be Royce.

Harley comes to get Galo on the balcony. "Lord Royce has arrived and is requesting your presence, Galo the Flameless, partner of Lio," they say.

Galo doesn't know how he feels about this new title, although he does experience a peculiar, fluttery feeling at the mention of Lio's name in conjunction with his own.

He follows Harley down to the main entrance area, where he joins Meis, Gueira, and Lio, the latter of whom has just woken from his nap and is rubbing sleep from his eyes.

The front door opens and Royce, flanked by his men, walks in like he owns the place (which he literally does). He's dressed differently from before, wearing a flowing red robe with flame patterns embroidered across it in shiny thread. The fake fire catches in the light, flashing colors both familiar and strange: orange and gold, pink and cyan. His clothing calls to mind some of the garments Galo remembers from his ancient Japanese firefighter movies. It's flashy, but he can respect it.

"My honored guests," Royce says, his voice a deep purr with a hint of edge to it, "You have arrived on an auspicious day. Tonight, a full year after the Great World Blaze, we are honoring what was lost and celebrating all that we have achieved in the year since."

Has it really been exactly a year? Galo searches his memory and finds that, yes, it _was_ exactly one year ago that he and Lio grounded the Parnassus, set fire to the world and closed the portal at the planet's core. With all that has happened since, it's hard to believe it's _only_ been a year.

"Because this is a special ceremony, I humbly request that you honor us by wearing these clothes we had prepared for you," Royce says, and one of his men unrolls a bundle of fabric, revealing four colorful robes in a similar style to the one Royce wears.

Lio regards the robes with a slight look of distaste. "Do we _have_ to?" he says, sounding a bit petulant. Galo doesn't think he's ever seen Lio wear anything besides leather and armor made of solid flames.

Royce's smile curls further. "As our very special guest of honor," he says, "the people will be looking to you and your associates as an example of what it means to be a true Burnish. So I hoped I could count on you for this, as a part of our new tradition."

"...Fine," Lio says, and accepts the bundle of clothes. Meis, Gueira and Galo each are handed their own robes as well.

"Now," says Royce, stepping back with a satisfied smile on his face, "The festival will be under way shortly. You won't want to miss the main event, the Great Bonfire." He grins. "I expect you'll find it very... enlightening." He snaps his fingers, and his entourage files out the door. Just as he's about to leave, he pauses on the threshold and looks back over his shoulder. "I look forward to seeing you there, Lio Fotia."

"Well, that didn't sound shady at all," drawls Gueira sarcastically after the door closes behind Royce.

" _Shhh!_ " Lio hushes him, with a glance towards Harley, who remains standing in the room with them. "Let's just... put these on, and do as he says."

Galo bounds up to his side. "Need a hand getting ready, starlight? Those robes look pretty complicated."

"No, thank you, I can handle it on my own," Lio says with thinly-veiled annoyance. Meis and Gueira exchange looks, Meis laughing behind his hand.

"Okay," says Galo. "But if I get stuck, you'll help me, won't you?"

"Galo," Lio says, pinching the top of his nose. "It's just a _robe_. And I know you're a grown adult, despite all evidence to the contrary. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Yeah, but..." Galo gestures to his injured shoulder and his arm in its sling. "This might make it kinda difficult."

Lio looks at his arm and gives a resigned sigh. " _Fine._ I'll help you. But I don't need any help myself."

They disappear into their rooms to change. Sure enough, Galo struggles with the robe ( _kimono_ , he remembers from his favorite historic Japanese movies). There are a lot more folds than he expected, and it's difficult to know which part of the garment goes where. As he tries to put it over his injured arm, it tangles with the sling and sends a painful twinge up to his shoulder. For a moment, it seems to Galo like the clothing has become sentient and is trying to eat him alive.

From the other side of the room, Lio stops in the middle of putting on his own robe and approaches to help. "Here, you big idiot, hold still," he says, and carefully removes the kimono from where it's tangled with Galo's arm sling.

Galo glances at him and quickly looks away, heat rising in his cheeks. Lio's not wearing a shirt. It's not the first time Galo's seen him like this, considering how his clothes were nearly all burned up in the Great Blaze. Still, seeing him like this again is triggering old memories of that day, one year ago.

Everything had happened so fast, and after it was over, Galo remembers how they'd stood together in the ashy aftermath, pale and vulnerable and exhausted.

He remembers the fear, sharp and desperate. How he'd held Lio's body, so fragile and light, and watched with dread as his arms and legs began to disintegrate into grey, flaky ash. In that moment, he acted on instinct, with that piece of Lio's soul in his mouth, and did the only thing he could think of that might keep him alive.

It worked, and Galo is left with the memory of Lio's lips against his own.

"There, it's done," Lio says, pulling the kimono carefully over Galo's injured shoulder and reattaching the sling over the top. He holds out a thick fabric sash. "Just tie this around your waist, and you're good."

Galo does so, and then goes to admire himself in the mirror by the door. His kimono is blue, his favorite color, and the pattern on it depicts a crashing ocean wave, edged with white sea foam. A grin spreads across his face. It's perfect.

He leaves their room to give Lio some privacy, and waits in the central area for the others to finish getting ready. After about a minute, Gueira and Meis emerge from their room. They look fancier than Galo has ever seen them; Gueira's kimono is a dark green with geometric patterns, while Meis' is purple and silver. Gueira's even taken the time to comb his wild hair and beard.

Then the door to their own room opens, and Lio steps out. Galo's heart shudders inside his chest. Lio's dressed in a teal robe, with hot pink flames covering it; the unmistakable colors of the Promare. Stripped out of his leather uniform, Lio's features appear softer, his mint green hair lighter, his magenta eyes more luminous.

In the back of his throat, Galo lets out a low whine. He's so _pretty._ It's not _fair_.

"Everyone ready? Let's go," commands Lio, and he leads them out the door and down the stone staircase towards the festival.

They descend the stone stairs, careful not to trip over their robes. Galo watches Lio out of the corner of his eyes as he leads their group, his posture rigid, eyes focused straight ahead. Lio’s always so determined, always thinking about so many things. Galo’s just thinking how regal Lio looks, like a prince of some forgotten kingdom.

The burning torches and lanterns light their way to the town center, which is alive with activity. There’s wheeled stalls selling fried food and sweets, people everywhere dressed in similar brightly-colored robes, a live band playing music and couples dancing in the open area.

Children are running amok, brandishing lit sparklers in their tiny hands. The town square is illuminated by massive iron braziers, stacked high with burning coals. The flickering firelight casts everybody’s shadows into motion, and tiny embers drift on the wind like fireflies.

Galo can’t help but feel nervous about all these exposed flames; he has to actively resist the urge to put them out. It helps that this city seems to be built with mostly fireproof materials, clay and stone. Leave it to the Burnish to build homes that are less likely to ignite with a stray spark.

As they enter the town square, people notice immediately and a crowd starts to gather. A young man with pink dust in his hair and cyan triangles painted on his cheeks approaches them.

“Master Lio and his Mad Burnish generals! Welcome to our humble festival,” the man says. “We’ve spent this past year preparing for this day. Now it's time to celebrate our freedom that the Flame has gifted to us! I see you are dressed in our ceremonial robes; does this mean you’ve come to join our celebration?”

“Um—“ Lio says, stiffly. “...Yes, it does.”

“Wonderful!” The man claps his hands, and shortly a woman comes bearing four flasks containing some strange liquid, which are pressed into their hands. “Then let us drink, and celebrate the great rekindling!” He hoists his own flask at them in salute. “Fire be with you!”

Galo takes a sip of the drink and nearly gags. It’s spicy, and very alcoholic, and it burns all the way down his throat. But he’s not one to flinch away from a challenge; after the initial shock, he knocks back the rest of the drink in a single gulp.

At his side, Galo feels a sharp tug. He looks down and sees Lio, who has his slender hand wrapped around Galo’s wrist and is looking up at him, his eyes blazing with intent.

“ _Focus_ , Galo,” Lio tells him. “We can’t afford to get distracted.”

“Uh... Yeah!” Galo agrees after a pause. “Focus! Right. Um, what were we supposed to be focusing on, again?”

“We just need to— to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Any sign that these Burnish are being exploited, any indication of Royce’s plans, or— Hey, where are you two going?” Lio snaps, this time directed at Gueira and Meis, who are drifting towards a spread of fresh-cooked food in the center of the square.

“Uh— celebrating the festival, like that guy said,” says Gueira.

“You’re supposed to be gathering information,” hisses Lio under his breath so only the four of them can hear.

“I’m pretty sure we can do that and still enjoy ourselves here,” Meis says with a shrug. “You might try it too, Boss.” Then, before Lio can say anything else, they both meander away into the crowd.

Lio huffs in displeasure. “Fine then,” he says, and grips more tightly to Galo’s arm. “At least you’ll be able to help keep an eye out for anything that seems suspicious.”

“Actually,” Galo says softly, looking down at Lio. “Those two may have a point — when was the last time you had a chance to relax, or took a day off just for yourself?"

Lio frowns at him. "...You know I can't do that while other Burnish are still struggling."

"Okay, but, look,” he says, and gestures around them with a smile, “These Burnish clearly aren’t suffering right now. So why should you?” He grins broadly. "Come on, starlight, it's been a year since we saved the world, and we never once got to celebrate together! So why don't we let loose for once?"

"Galo, wait—" protests Lio, before he's cut off as Galo wraps their hands together and drags him into the throng of people, dancing lights and music. After a moment, Lio stops resisting and lets himself be pulled along, the expression on his face mingling frustration and fondness.

With Galo in the lead, they migrate around the square, stopping at every attraction that catches his eye. He naturally makes a beeline for the food cart right away, and the man that runs it is more than happy to provide them with more free food than they could possibly eat. There’s fresh fruit, baked bread, roasted meat on skewers as well as some type of fried dough drizzled in honey and chili powder, which is surprisingly tasty, albeit spicy (what was it with Burnish food that it was _always_ spicy?). While munching their fried food, they stop to watch a man twirling a double-ended torch in a complicated dance while the crowd around him _oohs_ and _ahhs_. After that, Galo lets a teenage girl paint his face with colorful pigments, drawing pink and blue triangles on his cheeks and dusting both of their hair with pink chalk.

All throughout, people keep showing up to greet Lio, asking if he needs anything, and refilling both of their empty cups with more of that spicy drink. Despite Lio's initial resistance to the idea, and his insistence that they focus on their investigation, his cup seems to keep emptying itself, and the more that it does, the more Lio's movements grow increasingly relaxed and loose. After the third time this happens, a pinkish blush starts to appear across Lio's face.

Seeing this, Galo pulls him aside, out of the firelight and away from the crowd. He finds a more secluded place that’s beside the steaming river, while the festival continues on in the background.

"Hey, are you doing all right?"

"M'fine," Lio tells him. "You might've been right. About this party. Isss not so bad, really."

"Okay, well, I still think you should drink this," Galo says, offering Lio his own cup. When Lio eyes him suspiciously, he laughs and says, "Don't worry, it's just water. I figured you didn't wanna repeat the night we met, when you threw up all over me."

Lio snatches the cup, drains it, and hands it back to Galo, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“...Thanks," he says after a long pause and a deep breath. "I think I needed that." His magenta eyes meet Galo's. "...And I am sorry. About that first night. That wasn't— I didn't want that to be what you think of me."

"Already forgiven, starlight."

"Iss just— I couldn't— I didn't think I could handle it," Lio continues, not breaking eye contact. "You're so— impossible. You know? I thought it would be hard to be around you. But... it's really not?"

Galo blinks at him. This is a different side to Lio than he’s used to. “Wh-what do you mean?”

Lio leans in closer, his forearm pressed against Galo's thigh. There’s such little distance between them. "I mean... this. This thing. Being around you. Talking to you. It's... easy. Were you always this easy?"

Galo's heart is in his throat. He splutters, "Th-the great Galo Thymos has never been easy!"

"Oh, really?" Now Lio wears a sly smirk on his face. He's loose-limbed and pliable, practically in Galo's lap now. With one finger, he traces the outline of one of the wave patterns on Galo's robe. The warm touch of his fingertip sends shivers up Galo's spine. "If you're not easy, then why have you been practically throwing yourself at me this whole time?"

"It's not— that’s— Lio, we shouldn't," Galo says, swallowing thickly as the blood rushes to his face (and elsewhere). "The festival is right there— you've had a lot to drink, and— what about the mission? What about Royce?"

At the mention of Royce's name, Lio seems to sober up a bit. He pushes himself out of Galo's lap and stands upright. (Galo mentally kicks himself for killing the mood.)

"You're right; we need to stay focused," Lio says, the steely sharpness returning to his eyes.

He extends a hand down to Galo and helps him to his feet. Galo accepts it and gets up, slightly dizzy for reasons beyond the alcohol in his bloodstream.

He expects Lio to let go of his hand, but he doesn't. He pulls Galo closer to him instead.

"Dance with me," Lio tells him, voice low.

"Huh?"

"I want you to dance with me, while Royce is watching," Lio says. "That way, none of them will touch you, so long as they think you're mine."

The deep rumble of his voice sends a tremble through Galo's nerves, all the way down to the bottoms of his feet.

He's still not sure who Lio thinks needs convincing: was it Royce, or Lio himself?

Galo allows Lio to pull him back into the crowd of people. There's a wide-open area, lit by firelight and lanterns, where pairs of people are dancing. He watches wide-eyed as they twirl together with fire-colored ribbons tied to their wrists and ankles, all to the beat of the music that echoes out across the square.

Lio glances up at the raised platform above the dance floor. There, standing beside the band and flanked by his men, is Royce. He raises an eyebrow as he sees Lio and Galo step out into the open space, and Lio returns his look with his own unflinching gaze.

He pulls Galo in close to him as the song changes to one with a much slower tempo.

"Um," says Galo quietly, "I'm guessing now isn't the best time to tell you that I don't really know how to dance?"

Lio places his hand in the small of Galo's back. "That's okay. I do," he says, so low only Galo can hear. "Just follow my lead."

There’s a blaze of heat on Galo’s lower back where Lio is touching him. Everything feels slightly too warm, actually, and he worries he’s going to sweat through his kimono. But then they start moving, and Galo doesn’t have the mental space to worry about that anymore as he tries to keep in step with Lio’s deft, practiced movements.

After just a few false steps, though, things start to fall into place. Galo recognizes the three-beat rhythm as a waltz — he's seen enough movies to know what a waltz is. Lio clearly knows, and also seems to understand Galo’s movements in a way he didn’t expect, knowing exactly how hard to push, when to resist and when to give way. After the first few rotations he starts to get it. It’s surprisingly simple, with Lio.

Then the music begins to pick up, with additional drums and a horn joining in, and the tempo starts to increase. There must be other dancers out there with them, but for that moment Galo’s attention is singularly focused on Lio in his arms, leading them from one end of the floor to the other in a complicated whirl of fancy footwork, their mingled breaths coming faster and faster as the band increases its tempo, and suddenly all of the instruments are playing at once in a cacophony of sound as a volley of fireworks erupts in the sky, their lights reflected in Lio’s eyes.

The song ends and Galo just stands there, his arms entangled with Lio’s, unable to take his eyes off him. He thinks only two things: that Lio is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and that if Galo doesn’t kiss him right now, he’s pretty sure he’s gonna die—

That last thought is cut short as Lio stands on his tiptoes and kisses Galo, instead.

Galo's entire mind goes blank. Lio's lips are as soft as he remembers, and he tastes like spice and honey.

More fireworks explode in the sky up above. There’s a chorus of cheers and _ahhhhs_ , and at least one wolf whistle (that's probably Gueira).

They pull apart, too soon, and remain with their arms around each other, just looking.

“Hey, starlight,” Galo manages to say, his voice hoarse.

Lio looks up at him, his pink eyes soft and curious, the corner of his mouth tilted up as he cradles one hand against Galo’s chin (which is a bit scratchy after two days in the desert).

The stillness between them is disrupted by the sound of someone slow clapping. Lio looks away, and Galo follows his gaze to see Royce, who has stood up from his decorated chair and is applauding the performance.

“Bravo! Bravo, well done!” Royce says in a voice that booms out over all else. The crowd quickly hushes itself and turns their attention on him. “Truly this has been a legendary Fire Festival, our first of many! Generations of Burnish to come will tell stories of tonight. But it’s not over yet! The moment you all were waiting for has now arrived: it’s time to kindle the Great Bonfire!” Royce pulls out an unlit torch, and with a strange flourish of his hand, flames bloom across its tip. He hoists the torch in the air over his head. “Grab fires of your own, and follow me to the bonfire site, so that the burn may begin!”

Members throughout the crowd begin producing their own torches, and Galo feels a flash of mild panic over all the fire. A firm squeeze of his bicep snaps him back to reality, and he looks at Lio, who has turned his head away and is watching the procession of lit torches fire after Royce and head down the stone staircase towards the blue lake in the bottom of the valley.

“We should follow,” Lio says, but he doesn’t let go of Galo immediately.

Galo almost doesn’t want to go; there are at least a dozen more fun things he can think to do while he has Lio in his arms like this, not least of which includes kissing Lio again, a whole lot more this time. But Lio’s got that insistent spark in his eye again, that one that speaks of his determination as leader of Mad Burnish, and his willingness to protect his people, no matter the cost. So Galo reluctantly detaches their hands and they pull apart, the new distance between them feeling like a great chasm yawning open.

They follow the line of people holding lit torches as it snakes down the stairs towards the bottom of the hill. There, by the shores of the shallow lake, stands a stack of wooden logs, coal, and other flammable materials, which kindles to a blaze when Royce puts his torch to it. The fire continues to grow as more and more people toss their torches in, and by the time Lio and Galo reach the fireside the bonfire towers over their heads, its flickering flames reflected in the glassy surface of the lake.

Two of Royce's henchmen stand by the fire, holding up a large urn that contains some sort of powder. Royce reaches inside, pulls out a handful of the powder. Then he turns to address the gathered crowd.

"Now is our moment," Royce says. "The Eternal Flame awaits us on the other side." He holds out his handful of dust. "Cast your wishes onto the bonfire, and speak your truth to the flames!"

With that, he flings his handful of dust into the fire, and the colors within it immediately shift to a vivid, searing pink, with a flickering core of cyan.

Galo's heart thuds in his chest. It looks just like the fires of the Promare.

"Eternal Flame!" Royce speaks to the fire. "I beg of you to listen to us, your loyal Burnish! Hear our pleas, and let me become your voice!"

He stands aside, and the fire's color returns to normal orange and yellow hues. Then the next person in line steps up to receive their handful of dust.

It's Zara, the woman who greeted Lio in the square earlier that day. She's flanked by her four-year-old son, who also takes a small handful of dust. Together, they cast it into the fire, which flares up pink and cyan again.

"For so long, you were a part of me," she says into the flame, and touches a hand to her chest. "Now that you are gone, there is a cold place inside me. When will you return?"

"The Eternal Flame hears your words," Royce tells her. "It says not to worry, that these cold days will not last forever."

"Thank you," the woman gasps, and then she and her son step aside so that the next people can come.

It's a man, this time. "You gave me the power I needed to protect myself and my family," he says into the pink flames. "Without you I am lost."

"The fire is still inside you," says Royce. "So long as you keep believing."

A procession of people follow after that, and take turns throwing handfuls of dust into the fire, saying similar things and getting answers from Royce. Eventually, to Galo's surprise, he sees that the next people in line are Meis and Gueira. They stand side by side, hands joined, and each take some of the dust. Before they throw it into the bonfire, Galo risks a glance towards Lio and sees him staring at them, wide-eyed with surprise.

Gueira throws his handful into the fire. "We set a lotta stuff on fire for you," he says. "Hope you're happy."

"Yeah, and I probably would've died a dozen times at least, if I wasn't Burnish," agrees Meis.

Royce nods. "As Mad Burnish, you were some of the Flame's most loyal servants. The Eternal Flame thanks you for hearing its voice." He grins, and his smile shows sharp teeth.

"Uh-huh," says Gueira, expression unreadable as he and Meis disappear back into the crowd.

Next, Royce's eyes fall on Lio. "Lio Fotia. The last leader of Mad Burnish," Royce says. "Surely you have words you'd like to speak to the Eternal Flame?"

Lio's spine goes rigid. "...No, thanks."

"Aww, come now," Royce says, clearly undeterred. "You were their favorite servant, you know? I've never seen the fire burn so brightly through anyone else. I can say for certain that the Flames are eagerly awaiting your message."

Lio glances up at Galo, then towards Royce. He makes a sound like irritation in the back of his throat. " _Fine_ ," he growls.

As Lio walks closer to the fire, Galo follows beside him but is held back by Royce's henchmen.

"Ah-ah," Royce says, waggling a finger at him as though chastising a child. "Burnish only. You're lucky to have a chance to witness this at all, Flameless."

Galo is about to open his mouth in protest, but just then, Lio casts his handful of dust across the fire. The coals flare to life, even brighter than before, pink and green and blue and subtler hues, as though responding enthusiastically to Lio's presence. He takes a deep breath.

"I don't know why you chose me," Lio tells the fire, "But I carried out your will. We burned, and people hated and feared us because of it. They tortured and killed us Burnish because of what we did and who we were. I know you felt that pain too, and I knew you would have destroyed us all just to be rid of it. That's why I don't regret it," he continues. "Setting the world ablaze. Closing the portal. Any of it." He pauses, taking a deep breath, and then says, "...But I am thankful. You saved my life, and the life of my friend." His gaze flickers towards Galo. "And... I know that you're probably light-years away by now, on a distant star somewhere. But, sometimes... I think I can still hear your voice."

The flames return to their normal orange and yellow hues. Royce looks at Lio, one eyebrow raised, a fascinated look in his eye.

"Those were some _very_ interesting words, Lio," he drawls, and there's an edge to his voice that makes Galo slightly uncomfortable.

Lio returns to Galo's side, silent, eyes focused straight ahead.

Beside him, Galo leans in and whispers, "Did you really mean what you said? About still hearing the voices of the Promare?"

"Be quiet," Lio stage-whispers back at him, and Galo does.

The ceremony continues after that, until the last Burnish has thrown their handful of dust and spoken their words into the fire. As the blaze starts to simmer down to embers, Royce steps out in front once again, holding out his hands to hush the murmuring crowd.

"Finally, we draw our first-ever Fire Festival to a close. But before we retire to our festivities for the rest of the night, there is one final miracle you all should witness," says Royce.

He snaps his fingers, and his two men that are carrying the urn full of dust upend it into the bonfire. The flames crackle and pop and flare up pink and blue.

"Behold! Proof that the Eternal Flame watches over us still!" Royce shouts, voice booming out. Then, with his arms outstretched, he steps backwards, directly into the fire.

Galo lets out an involuntary yell. His body begins moving before his mind can fully engage itself, automatically dashing towards Royce to pull him out of the flames. Before he even reaches the fire, though, he is grabbed and held back by the massive form of Harley.

"Lord Royce is communing with the Eternal Flame," they say, placing pressure on Galo's bad shoulder and forcing him to his knees. "He must not be interrupted."

Galo gasps out in pain, and looks into the brilliant blue heart of the fire, where Royce's shape is still silhouetted against the flickering tongues of flame. He braces himself for the screams and sounds of sizzling flesh.

None of that happens. Instead, the flames flare up, and then almost immediately die down to embers. Standing barefoot atop the coals, soot-blackened but otherwise unscathed, is Royce. Small fires still light on the edges of his robe but do not appear to burn his clothes or skin. His red eyes flash with a new kind of power.

"Behold! The Eternal Flame has spoken to me!" he declares with arms outstretched, as Galo stares, jaw dropped. _How the hell was this man alive right now?_

Similar expressions of shock and disbelief reverberate throughout the crowd, but are quickly silenced when Royce starts to speak again.

"I heard the truth inside of the flames," he says, "They say that the fires which went cold inside of us one year ago will soon flare up once more. By the power of your belief, the Great Rekindling is coming. And on that day, the Burnish of the world shall rise again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-)


	8. Chapter 8

The morning after the festival, the three members of Mad Burnish and Galo all gather around the dining table of their house for a strategy meeting. It's past midday, and the four of them are all varying degrees of hungover, but they've at least roused enough to carry on a conversation.

Lio waits until Harley departs on an errand before swiftly convening their group. They need to discuss what they saw last night, preferably with none of Royce's henchmen listening in.

"Damn," says Gueira as soon as they are all seated. "I know we're supposed to be suspicious of Royce, and all that, but that guy knows how to throw one hell of a party."

"I've never seen that many Burnish acting so... chill," says Meis.

Lio taps a finger on the tabletop impatiently. "Royce has certainly got the Burnish of Tartaros to follow him unquestioningly," he says. Then he fixes Gueira and Meis with a stare. "Careful that you two don't get sucked in, as well."

"Yeah, of course, boss," Gueira says with dismissive shrug. "We're loyal to you alone. You know that."

"Then why," Lio says icily, "Were you so quick to wander off last night, directly _against_ my orders?"

"In our defense, you were pretty quick to forget that plan, yourself," says Meis, with a sly glance at Galo.

Lio looks at Galo now too. He's uncharacteristically quiet today, in sharp contrast to his usually boisterous demeanor. He doesn't even seem to notice Lio's attention on him, and is instead staring out the window, a cup of coffee going cold in between his massive hands.

"Galo," Lio says, and that gets his attention with a start.

"Huh? Sorry, I was thinking..."

" _That's_ new," mutters Gueira with a snicker. Lio silences him with a glare and looks back to Galo again.

"What did you make of the festival last night?" Lio asks him. Then memories of what they did together come flooding back along with a flush of embarrassment, and so he clarifies: "I mean. Of Royce, and what he said at the bonfire."

"Oh," Galo says, and there's a slight blush on his cheeks. "I thought... it was weird, seeing people worship the Promare like that."

"Flame-worshiping is something Burnish have done for many years," Lio says. “Long before any of us knew about the true nature of the Promare.”

"Yeah, but the Promare aren't gods! They're aliens!"

"There's a lot we still don't know about ‘em," Meis says with a shrug. “And most Burnish don’t even know they exist. It’s not like that doctor’s research is common knowledge or anything.”

“Well— someone should tell them!” says Galo. “It’s not right, making people believe in something that turns out to be a total lie...” Something in Galo’s words puts a twist in Lio’s gut.

“Well, what’s the difference if folks think they’re gods or aliens?” Gueira says. “Either way, we shared our bodies with them and heard their voices in our heads. And they gave us superpowers! So what’s the harm in wanting to talk to ‘em, whatever they are?”

“People worshiping the Promare isn’t the problem here. The issue is Royce,” Lio says, cutting through the cross-talk. “He’s claiming that he’s some kind of avatar of the Eternal Flame. That’s why they all follow him without question. He’s promised them something no one else can, and shown them things which shouldn’t be possible.”

“Yeah, well, it begs the question: how did he _do_ that?” asks Meis.

“Dude just straight up walked through the fire untouched,” says Gueira. “Does he still have his Promare, or something?”

Lio shakes his head. “There’s no way,” he says. “I _felt_ the Promare leave Earth. We sealed that rift,” he says, and looks up towards Galo, who meets his eyes and holds his gaze for a second. “It should be impossible for anyone to have Burnish powers anymore."

"Maybe he was faking it," says Meis.

"It must have been some sort of trick," Lio agrees. "At least now we know what Royce's plan is, though."

"What's that?"

"He wants to rekindle the Promare. Or more accurately, he wants his followers to _believe_ he can do it.”

"Th—that's awful!" Galo splutters, alarmed. "The Promare nearly destroyed Earth! Bringing them back would be a _terrible_ idea!"

There's a beat of silence. Meis and Gueira exchange an uncomfortable glance.

"...I'm not sure everyone thinks that," says Meis.

Gueira nods. "Yeah. Lots of Burnish would give anything for our fire back." He holds out an empty palm and stares at it, as though trying and failing to will his flame into existence.

Galo looks genuinely astonished. "But, being Burnish meant you guys suffered so much. You were forced to live in slums, were constantly on the run, and you needed to set stuff on fire all the time! Why would _anyone_ want that?"

"Well, it's like... there's a piece of you that's missing." Meis says.

"Galo," says Lio, "Imagine if, one day, you woke up and your firefighting was just— gone. Not just your gear, or your mech, but as if you could never put out any fires or rescue anyone ever again. How would that make you feel?"

Galo frowns. "Th-that’s impossible! I've spent pretty much my entire life learning to be a firefighter. It's like, the very foundation of my blazing soul! If I didn't have that, I... I wouldn't even be _me_ anymore!"

"Right," says Lio. "That's what it was like, to lose our Promare. Like one day, the thing that defined us just..." he gestures with a leather-clad hand, mimes pulling something from his chest and having it drift away.

Galo looks astounded. "Seriously? It's like that for all of you?"

"Not all Burnish," Gueira says with a shrug. "Some of us had it worse than most."

"Those of us who burned every day... we had it pretty rough, at first," Meis says. "Got used to it, though."

"...But you still miss it, huh," Galo says.

"Don't get me wrong, big guy," Gueira says. "I'm on your side, here. Bringing back the Promare would be a terrible idea. Even if it'd be pretty cool to have our powers back."

"What d'you think, Boss?" asks Meis. "You're the one who went to the trouble of closing that portal to begin with. If you could, would you ever want to burn again?"

"I—" Lio opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, they're interrupted by a deep, low rumble.

It emanates from the earth below their feet. The furniture rattles where it stands and Galo’s coffee cup trembles and sloshes atop the table. As quickly as the quake began, it fades away, as though it never happened.

Moments later, they hear the sound of the front door opening.

It's Harley, who is facing away from their group as they back in through the door, their arms full with a large stuffed sack of some kind. They turn around, light glinting off their cat-ear motorcycle helmet, and appear to notice the group seated around the table for the first time.

"Good to see the four of you up and unharmed,” they say.

“Yo,” says Gueira, “What was that just now?! Felt like an earthquake.”

“It was,” Harley says. “This region is volcanically active. But you needn’t worry,” they tell them. “Mt. Hades has been dormant for years.”

“Doesn’t _feel_ dormant,” mutters Gueira skeptically.

“We monitor it very closely, and I can assure you there is no risk,” Harley says calmly.

With Harley’s face obscured by their helmet, it’s nearly impossible for Lio to get a read on them. But Lio wasn’t really paying attention, anyway. He’s still thinking about Meis’ question from before.

With a grunt of effort, Harley lifts the cloth sack in their arms and places it on the table. They open the drawstring to reveal a bounty of food: bread and fruit and cheese and crispy snacks and fresh-baked pies and more. Lio feels his stomach growl at the sight of it.

Harley drops onto an empty chair, seemingly satisfied with their work. "The citizens of Tartaros were all happy to pitch in, and each household contributed something to feed you. It is our honor to give thanks for your services to all Burnish."

"Oh, um," Lio says, feeling a little awkward. "They really didn't have to... I hope no one is going hungry on our behalf."

"No Burnish will go hungry in Tartaros. This Lord Royce has decreed," Harley tells them. "Now, please, eat however much you like. I am at your service should you require any further assistance."

"Thank you," Lio tells them, and carefully selects a pastry before standing up from their table. "...Excuse me. I need a moment to think.”

He feels the others’ eyes follow him as he wanders off. He sorts through the many thoughts that crowd inside his mind as he walks through the rooms in their house without any particular destination in mind, munching on the pastry. (It’s good — a buttery crust with spiced honey filling, a flavor which reminds him of the Fire Festival.)

Royce’s actions at the Fire Festival aren’t only troubling because of his claim that he can give Burnish their powers back— which Lio knows is flat-out absurd. Closing that portal was a one-way trip. They live in a post-Promare world, now, and anyone spouting nonsense about bringing the aliens back is clearly delusional. No, it’s not the threat of that which troubles Lio; rather, it’s the way Royce has exploited the vulnerabilities of the Burnish, turning them into his followers with a cultish fervor.

Because that’s what this really is: a cult. Lio’s not blind. Royce is every bit the charismatic leader he was when he led Mad Burnish, arguably more so now with years more experience. Compared to Lio, who even at his most charismatic can still be overly direct and brusque, Royce seems to navigate all social interactions as smoothly as a ship crossing a calm, glassy sea. Without their Burnish powers to even the playing field, Royce might have the advantage over Lio. And that’s not even taking into account the unflinching devotion he receives from his subjects.

But, on the other side of his suspicion, Lio sees it: a perfect Burnish paradise, where none of them need fear being hunted or persecuted for the fire that once burned inside them. A place where Burnish children can play in the streets and where the cold inside his bones is almost nonexistent. A land of plenty, with rich soil and more than enough resources for everyone to live comfortably. And if they had a method to defend themselves from the outside world, then, well...

Lio’s absent-minded wandering brings him to the top of the stairs that lead down into the lower level, which contains their private hot spring. He realizes he hasn’t paid much mind to that area of the guest house, so he follows the stairs downward.

As soon as he descends into the basement, he is hit in the face by a billowing cloud of sulfur-scented steam. The hot spring room consists of a series of shallow pools of various sizes that admits water via an intake valve from the river outside, cascading from one pool to the next before collecting into a much larger tub in the lowest part of the room. It’s lit with candle lanterns in the corners of the room, and thin slits in the walls that let in daylight from outside. Towels and various scented soaps are pre-arranged for them on a rack by the door.

The warm, lazy steam that rises up from the surface of the hot tub is enticing. Maybe Meis, Gueira and Galo were right when they told Lio he works too hard. He supposes there’s probably no harm in taking a short rest, as he begins the process of unbuckling the many belts and straps that decorate his leather uniform.

After shedding his black leather shell and stripping down to just his underclothes, Lio selects a fluffy towel that’s the size of a bed sheet, wraps his body in it and dangles bare feet over the rim of the pool, soaking in the hot water below. The steamy air helps soothe his headache somewhat, which is a relief. He feels as though there are too many thoughts crowding inside his mind.

Unfortunately, before he is given much time alone to think, he's interrupted by another set of footsteps as Galo appears at the base of the stairs. He's shirtless already and has a towel slung over his shoulder. He’s even removed the sleeve he usually wears over one arm, revealing shiny burn scars which glisten in the candlelight. Lio feels an involuntary blush creep up from his shoulders at the sight of him — they still haven't talked about last night at all.

Galo, to his credit, hesitates when he sees Lio, and averts his eyes. "Lio! Uh, I can just— if you wanted to be alone, I mean, I can go—"

"—No, it's fine," Lio interrupts. It's hard to look directly at him, but Lio makes himself do it, because even he can admit that they won't get anything accomplished by avoiding each other.

Galo has been acting strangely ever since they got back from the festival. Late last night, feeling exhausted and woozy, Lio remembers tugging on the wide sleeves of Galo's robe, trying to pull him to their shared bedroom. But Galo hesitated in their doorframe, rooted to the spot.

"Lio, I'm not sure..." he said. "I'm... going to go for a walk, okay? You should rest, though."

Lio let out an irritated huff when Galo wouldn't follow him inside. "Fine, then," he'd said, shrugging the silken kimono off his shoulders before making a bee-line for the large bed in the center of the room and collapsing atop its many pillows. He took several deep breaths, waited for the room to stop spinning, then peered up through the hair slanted across his eyes. Galo remained in the doorway, backlit by flickering firelight. His face was in shadow so Lio couldn't read his expression.

Lio let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes. By the time he opened them, the lamp-light was extinguished and there was no sign of Galo. He curled into himself on top of the bed sheets, searching for a warmth that wasn't there.

After an uncountable span of time — minutes, or hours, Lio's not sure — he eventually roused slightly at the sensation of a slight dip of the bed, and a warm body entering the space beside him, inches away but not quite touching. There was a soft rustle, the feeling of a blanket being pulled across his shoulders, a quiet sigh, then silence, punctuated by breathing.

When he awoke in the morning, Galo was gone again and the bed was cold.

Now, he stands by the hot bath, looking sheepish and more vulnerable than Lio has known in the relatively short time since they've reunited with each other. It's a strange look for the normally brash and boisterous firefighter, and the sight of it puts Lio off-balance. Something has Galo acting strange, and in that moment he realizes that 'something' is most likely Lio himself.

"Galo," Lio says, and the man finally looks at him again. Lio pats the seat next to him, and Galo comes to sit beside him, kicking off his sandals and placing his feet into the hot water beside Lio. However, the instant his toes touch the steaming surface of the pool, he withdraws them with a yelp.

"Ahhh, hot hot hot!" he exclaims. "This water's practically boiling!"

"Is it?" Lio says, calmly waving his feet in circles beneath the water's surface. He puts on a teasing grin. "I thought you were used to dealing with heat. Haven't you been inside plenty of burning buildings?"

"Yeah, but that's different! I don't do that sort of stuff for fun, you know!" He holds his feet comically suspended an inch above the water's surface. "How can you stand this?"

"It's not so bad when you get used to it," Lio tells him, and kicks up a small splash. Galo yelps again, recoiling from the drops of water, and Lio laughs quietly at his reaction.

Galo places his feet at the rim of the pool, pulling his knees into his chest. "You're _mean_ ," he whines.

"No, really. There's the initial shock, but then your body will adjust," Lio says. He raises a leg out of the water, the hot droplets trailing down his bare ankle and dripping from his toes, forming ripples across the surface of the pool. He sees Galo’s eyes fixate on his leg, watching the water run down its pale and slender form, and the man conspicuously swallows.

Lio pauses, placing his feet back into the water. What was he doing? Flirting? He hadn’t intended to— why did this keep happening whenever Galo was around?

Galo forces his gaze away from Lio and carefully lowers his feet beneath the water’s surface, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he adjusts to the temperature. There’s a moment of silence, and then Galo says, “I didn’t know you felt like that.”

A jolt of nervous energy passes through Lio. He struggles to maintain his composure.

“...Like what?” he asks, nearly afraid to hear the answer.

“About losing your Promare. I had no idea it was that hard for you,” Galo clarifies, and mild relief passes through Lio. “I mean, I knew most Burnish had some difficulty adjusting, especially in the early weeks, but... you...” his eyes meet Lio’s again. “I think I get it now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you left Promepolis, I’ve been trying to figure out why. But what you said back there in the kitchen, I think it explains a lot,” Galo says. “After we saved the world... you were going through so much. Losing your friends. Losing a part of your soul. I guess it probably hurt too much to stick around, huh?”

Lio studies him. “...You’re surprisingly perceptive.”

“Yeah, well.” He runs a hand through the spikes of his hair. “I spend a lot of time thinking about you.”

That admission causes Lio’s heart rate to quicken and heat to rise up in his chest. In a single smooth motion, he discards the towel wrapped around his chest and slips into the water, hearing Galo’s surprised yelp just seconds before he dips below the surface.

If his intention was to cool the warmth inside his chest, then the hot water is totally ineffective. He resurfaces, brushing dripping green hair out of his face to find Galo’s eyes watching him. 

“Oh, good,” Galo says faintly. “You’re wearing underwear.”

Lio laughs quietly and swims to the edge of the pool, placing his elbows on the rim. He leans his cheek against the crook of one arm and studies Galo with a sideways glance. The man practically radiates nervous energy; he feels it like charged particles in the air.

Well. Might as well get it out in the open, then. “You wanted to talk,” Lio says.

“That’s— I— w-well, um, you,” Galo babbles nonsensically.

 _He’s cute when he’s flustered,_ thinks a traitorous part of Lio’s brain, as Galo manages to regain some of his composure.

“You... wh-where did you learn to dance like that?”

Well, that wasn’t the question Lio was expecting to hear, but he rolls with it. “Private lessons,” he tells him. “Since I was six.”

“I thought you were Burnish your whole life? That’s... what the reports said, anyway...”

“I was,” Lio says. “But my birth parents weren’t exactly pleased about that. So they tried to hide my fire, to make me into a proper member of society.” He frowns against the crook of his elbow. “...It worked. For a while, anyway. Until I burned their house to the ground and ran away when I was thirteen.”

Galo looks at him, stunned. “That’s... I had no idea about any of that.” He scratches at his undercut. “Do you miss them at all?”

“No,” Lio says immediately and vehemently. “They never treated me like their son. At best, I was a mistake, and at worst, a monster.” He tightens one hand into a fist. “Mad Burnish is the only real family I’ve ever known.”

“I see...” Galo looks wistful. “Sounds kinda like me and Burning Rescue! They basically adopted me after I graduated from the firefighters’ academy. I never really had a real home before that, or people I could count on to always be there for me.”

Lio gives him a curious look. “...Don’t you have parents?”

“Nope! I’m an orphan,” Galo says, the cheerful tone in his voice ringing hollow in Lio’s ears. “I lost both my parents in a house fire when I was really young. The one Kray Foresight pulled me out of. It’s why I idolized him so much.” A dark look passes across Galo’s face. “Although... now that I know he was the one who started that fire... I guess that means he’s the reason I lost my parents, too.”

“That bastard,” Lio seethes, digging nails into the palms of his hand. “Prison was too good for him. I hope he rots in there forever.”

“Hey, now,” Galo says, the malice fading from his voice. “We did a good thing. He’ll never hurt anyone ever again.” He kicks his feet in the water. “Wow... this got pretty dark quick, huh? I didn’t mean to bring all this stuff up. It just sorta happened.”

“It’s fine,” Lio says. He studies Galo through his veil of wet hair. “...I may have underestimated you, Galo Thymos.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Lio kicks back away from the wall and swims out to the center of the pool, where his feet can barely touch the bottom. He pivots around to face Galo again. “You’re not just a muscular idiot who thinks he’s an anime protagonist. You can be surprisingly astute, when you want to be.”

“Yeah, of course— hey! What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?”

Instead of answering, Lio ducks his head beneath the steaming surface of the water again, and opens his eyes. It’s difficult to make out details in the cloudy liquid, but he sees where Galo’s feet are hanging over the edge of the pool, and swims over to them.

With one fluid motion, Lio seizes Galo’s legs from below and, with all his might, pulls him over the edge and into the pool. Galo yells as he hits the water with a splash, plunging beneath the surface for a moment before reemerging with a gasp.

“Ahhh! Hot! Still too hot!!” He looks to Lio with a betrayed expression. “Why’d you _do_ that?!”

“I wanted to,” Lio says, wearing a sly smile. “I thought Burnish are free to do whatever we wanted, here.”

“Yeah, but that’s— _hah_ — no excuse to take it out on _me_!” Galo whines, but there’s no edge to it. In fact, Lio can see him smiling slightly, in between rapid breaths as his body adjusts to the water’s temperature.

In that moment, through the hazy mist and warm fog that’s clouding Lio’s thoughts, his mind sharpens with a sudden laser focus. He and Galo are just inches apart now, standing waist-deep in the water. Galo’s chest heaves, as drops of warm water drip off the spikes of his hair and run down his bare chest. Lio has to fight off the urge to trace their path with his finger, or his tongue.

Instead, he leans ever so slightly closer towards Galo. “You know,” he says, “I was expecting you to ask a different question.”

“Wh—what’s that?” Galo’s voice is husky, his pupils dilated.

“About last night,” Lio says, and draws even closer. “About us. What we were doing.” Now he gives into temptation and uses one finger to trace that line down Galo’s chest, feeling his pulse flutter. “You’re not that subtle, you know. I can tell you’ve been thinking about it.”

“Ahh, Lio, that’s...” Galo mutters weakly. His breath catches underneath Lio’s touch, and when he says Lio’s name it’s almost a moan. Lio wants to steal that breath from him — so he does, pulling him down with a hand behind his neck to meet his lips in a hungry kiss.

It’s different from the last time they kissed, beneath the fireworks with everyone watching. This time it’s private, more intimate, and Lio is able to kiss him with all the fire that he’s been holding back all this time. After a stunned moment, Galo returns the kiss, his large, powerful hands cradling the back of Lio’s neck, skin against wet skin, his mouth hot, hungry and desperate, like fuel to the fire that’s scorching inside of Lio’s chest.

But then, after... some time... Lio feels those firm hands push gently against his chest, prying them apart from each other. They separate, and when Lio looks at Galo’s handsome face, he sees an unexpectedly worried downturn to his kiss-swollen lips.

“Why’d you stop?” Lio asks, impatiently.

“Lio, that’s— that is what I wanted to talk about. You, me. Us,” Galo says. Their chests are still almost touching, but he suddenly isn’t meeting Lio’s eyes. “I came here to... to talk. But you’re— distracting.”

“I know I am,” says Lio. “That’s on purpose.”

“I don’t think you know that! Do you even— do you know what you _do_ to me?” Galo asks, exasperated. “I think about you _all the time_ , Lio. Like, literally, constantly.”

“I should hope so,” purrs Lio, and tries to run a hand down Galo’s eight-pack again, but feels a hand close around his own wrist, pulling him off gently and holding him at bay.

“I mean it. You’re making this very hard,” Galo says. Then he realizes the double entendre in what he just said, and clarifies, “I—I mean. Words. You’re making it hard to find the words I want to say to you right now.”

Lio pulls back, then, and sinks into the pool until his chin dips just below the water’s surface. “...Well? Say it, then.”

Galo runs a hand through his wet hair, brushing it back from his eyes. “Okay. It’s just. This whole ‘fake boyfriends’ thing— I lied. I can’t do this, Lio. I’m sorry.”

His words send a freezing jolt through Lio. “Wh— What are you saying?” He asks, struggling to keep the tremor out of his voice.

“I mean, I’m no good at pretending. And if this is just— some kinda act you’re putting on, just so you can stick it to Royce so that he doesn’t kill me, then I don’t wanna do it anymore. I like you, and I can't keep pretending like I don't.” Galo shakes his head, scattering drops into the water around them.

Lio is silent for a moment, as he thinks about what Galo just said. Then, he puts two and two together, and unexpectedly starts laughing.

“That’s— Hey, what’s so funny?” Galo asks, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m baring my soul over here! Why are you— what are you laughing at?”

Lio’s laughter turns to hiccups, and he takes several deep breaths to calm himself down, before saying, “Galo. Look around you. Do you see anyone else here?”

Galo turns his head, looks over both his shoulders at the empty hot spring room around them. “...No? What does that have to do with—“

“I take back what I said. You really _are_ an idiot,” Lio says fondly, swimming closer and standing up again. He gently places a hand against Galo’s chest, and feels relieved when he doesn’t flinch away. He looks up and meets his eyes. “Now, think hard. Why would I kiss you with nobody else around, for any reason other than because I wanted to?”

“That’s... I, um.” Galo’s heartbeat quickens underneath Lio’s hand against his chest.

“Just to be clear, I’m not doing this for Royce. I’m doing it for me,” Lio says, and slides his hand further up Galo’s chest, to rest it on his shoulder.

“Lio, I...” Galo’s gaze flutters from Lio’s eyes, to his lips, and back. “I—if this is just fooling around, then, I don’t wanna do that, either.” His blue eyes betray a naked honesty and vulnerability, in spite of his size, his strength, and the fact that he could probably easily pick Lio up and carry him around if he wanted to. “...I like you too much, and I, I don’t wanna mess things up. So.” He straightens up, and tries to keep a steady face. “I want you, but only if you’re gonna take it seriously.”

Lio’s stomach is tying itself in knots, but he finds himself smiling nevertheless. “I’m always serious.”

“You— you’ve been messing with me this entire time!” Galo objects.

“Okay, fine. But not anymore.” Lio peers closely into his eyes. “Despite everything... I do care how you feel, Galo Thymos. So, I...” He looks down towards Galo’s chest, at his arm in its sling. "I'm. Willing to take this seriously. If that's what you desire."

Galo's eyes grow dark as he looks at Lio, who faintly wonders what he's gotten himself into.

"So, wait," Galo says, a grin forming on his face. "Does this mean you like me?"

Lio gives an exaggerated sigh. " _Galo_. I just made out with you for like, three solid minutes. Of _course_ I like you!"

Galo grins wider. "Yeah, I figured, but I was just making sure."

"You're impossible," Lio says. "Now, do you need me to say anything else to put your mind at ease, or will you just kiss me again, already?!"

"Nope, that was it," Galo says, and leans in close, to which Lio thinks, oh, fucking _finally_. But then he pauses, just inches away from their lips connecting, and Lio wants to explode. "Oh, but first, there's something I wanna say." His eyes roam across Lio's body.

"Oh my fucking stars, Galo, will you just—"

"That kimono you wore last night," he says. "It looked really, _really_ good on you."

Despite the growing frustration, Lio finds himself smiling. "Is that so? I still have it, you know. I can put it on again."

"Nah," Galo says. "I think I prefer you like this."

Then, finally, Galo leans in, and kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him, until hot fog fills the spaces in between Lio’s thoughts, and Lio can't focus on anything else besides the taste of him, their bodies intertwined, their two souls burning together as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day ;)


	9. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains porn. And fluff. Absolutely nothing plot-related happens in this one at all. If smut isn't your thing, feel free to skip.
> 
> Thanks, hope you enjoy :D
> 
> ~

“Ah, fuck — Galo —“

They’re up against the far wall of the steamy hot spring. Flickering lamp light catches against the beaded sweat drops that gather on Lio’s clavicle, which Galo wants nothing more than to chase with his tongue. Lio makes all the pleasantest sounds, is soft and pliable yet firm in all the right places, as his back arches in response to Galo’s touch. He gasps a shared breath between their mouths as they separate from a sticky kiss. Everything is hot and hazy, and it fills Galo’s head with a pleasant delirium.

Lio’s hands clutch at him, twining in his wet hair. “I— I want—“

“Yeah, starlight? Anything. I’ll do whatever you ask,” Galo says. He would, is the thing, he really would.

“I think...” Lio catches his breath a bit and pulls back from kissing. He looks at Galo with a hunger that makes him weak in the knees. “I want you to blow me,” he says, in that authoritative voice he uses sometimes, and oh, what it _does_ to Galo’s insides.

Galo immediately drops to one knee, trailing hands down Lio’s slender chest. He thinks he could very nearly wrap his hands around Lio’s waist. He does rest them on Lio’s porcelain hip bones, and nuzzles against the very obvious erection that’s straining against the fabric of his briefs.

“Yeah? I’m gonna make you feel so good, Lio, I promise.”

“Then what are you waiting for,” Lio growls. “Fucking do it already. If you’re up to the challenge, that is,” he says with a smirk, and damn, that should not be as hot as it is.

Galo Thymos is not a man to back down from a challenge. He reaches inside Lio’s briefs and pulls him out. His cock is gorgeous, elegant like the rest of him, curved with a pink tip. Galo runs his tongue over the tip before taking him into his mouth, in response to which Lio gives a high pitched sound, and covers his blushing face with one hand.

“Fuu-uckk,” Lio releases a choked sound from his chest as Galo takes him in, swallowing down the entirety of his length, humming pleasantly in response to the quiet gasps of delight Lio seems to make with every breath. It’s been a minute since the last time Galo did this, but, well, he once stacked three slices of pizza on top of each other and managed to fit it all inside his mouth at once, so really, he’s made for this sort of thing.

Lio’s hand knots in the hair behind Galo’s head. His hips thrust of their own accord, and Galo has to keep his wits about him to stay in control and not gag or cough when the cock hits the back of his throat. But Galo is single-minded, and right now his only intention is giving Lio Fotia the absolutely most amazingest blowjob ever, because he deserves it. The noises Lio makes are encouraging, and the shallow breaths and gasps of pleasure reassure Galo that he’s doing it right.

“You’re so —fucking— gorgeous,” Lio says between gasping breaths. “How are you so— ffffuck— Galo!!”

Lio’s voice calling his name in a ragged cry is the only warning Galo has before Lio comes, hot and salty on the back of his tongue, and he mostly manages to swallow it all but some of it ends up across his lips and in his hair. He runs a tongue across his lips to clean up stray drops. He might have just made Lio come, but there’s no way he’ll pass up a chance to fluster him further.

When he looks up, though, Lio is covering his face with his hands.

“Starlight?” Galo asks, playful yet hesitant. He stands up, sliding his hands up Lio’s sides again. “Was that good? Did I make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” says Lio, his words muffled behind his hand. “I’m just embarrassed because you made me come so quickly.”

“That’s just part of the Galo Thymos premium package,” Galo tells him with a grin. 

Lio laughs, unexpectedly. “How dare you talk like that when you’ve got jizz in your hair.”

“Why not? It’s true! I fight fires, save the world, and give _amazing_ blow jobs!”

“Yeah...” Lio gives a small, happy sigh of post-orgasmic contentment. Then his gaze drops down to the conspicuous bulge in Galo’s own swim trunks. “But you’re still not finished.”

“That’s— you don’t have to, starlight, I only wanna make you feel good—“

“No,” says Lio, “I want to. I really, really want to touch you.” And with a rapid jiu jitsu maneuver, he flips them around so that now Galo is the one with his back up against the wall. He slides a hand down Galo’s abs and below the waistband of his trunks, wrapping it firmly around his cock.

“Ah—“ Galo’s breath catches in his throat.

Lio’s smile coyly tugs at a corner of his mouth as he jerks Galo off inside his shorts, grip firm yet agonizingly slow.

“Stars, you’re big,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed, and Galo makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, as Lio pulls him out into the steamy air, drops down to his knees and licks a stripe up the underside of Galo’s cock.

He smiles up at Galo then, with his lips so pretty and pink, and Galo whimpers.

“I think,” Lio says, wrapping slender fingers around the base, “I want to wreck you. Is that okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Galo nods, and then, “Oh, fuck!!” as Lio wraps those gorgeous lips around the tip, hollows out his cheeks to suck him down. He can’t get all of him in — Galo’s cock being proportional to the rest of him — but he nevertheless manages to do all these wicked things with his tongue that make Galo’s head spin. He grips one fist tight to the base, and with his other hand toys with his balls, before sliding lower along the sensitive areas of his inner thighs, and further back, towards—

“Ah, Lio, I’m,” he babbles, sweat dripping from his brow in the heat of the room. “I’m so close—“

Lio takes his mouth away, and Galo gives a desperate whine.

“Why’d you stop—“

“Shhh,” Lio says as he straightens up, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Galo again with that clever tongue that had just seconds ago been rocking Galo’s world. He tastes salty and musky and Lio Lio _Lio_ , and amid the sensory overload Galo is aware of something else warm pressing against his cock. Galo’s gaze flicks downwards and he notices that Lio, too, has begun to grow hard again in the minutes since he last came. (Refractory period who?) 

Lio’s eyes are smoky purple as he looks at Galo. “I want to see your face when I make you come,” he says, and _fuck_ if that’s not the hottest thing anyone has ever said to Galo in his entire living memory probably.

Lio wraps a hand around both of them, stroking firm and determined. Galo, eager to please as always, grasps with his own hand too and matches Lio’s pace, his rhythm, and it doesn’t take much longer than a minute or so before the pressure building up just beneath Galo’s skin reaches a breaking point, and he lets out a ragged moan as he spills over both their hands. Lio continues stroking him through his orgasm, and it’s almost like Galo can _feel_ his attention lavished on him, drinking up every drop with his eyes as Galo comes undone.

He must have blacked out there for a bit, because when next he resurfaces to awareness, they’re both seated with their backs resting against the wall. Galo feels boneless and relaxed like he’d just had a deep-tissue massage. Lio, to his delight, has his body partially draped across Galo’s like a personal blanket. He's resting his mint green head against Galo's collarbone, idly tracing patterns with his fingertip across the broad expanse of his chest.

The hot spring room smells like sex, and they’re gonna probably have to warn Meis and Gueira about that, Galo idly thinks.

Lio notices he’s awake now, and a grin slides onto his face. “So you’ve returned,” he says, a teasing edge to his voice.

“Hmmm, yeah,” Galo says, unable to keep from smiling too. “That was _amazing_. Like, wow. You’re really good at this stuff!”

“I’m glad you liked it. I’m a little embarrassed that I didn’t... last longer, though,” Lio admits.

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, starlight, I loved it.”

“If you’re sure. It’s just... I haven’t done that in...” Lio looks down and away from Galo’s gaze.

Galo pushes himself upright. “Wait, you’re a _virgin_?!”

“No! Of course not,” Lio says, sounding a bit offended. “It’s just been... a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“At least a couple of years,” Lio says. “Being an arson terrorist on the run didn’t exactly give me very much time for relationships. And this past year, I’ve just... had other things on my mind, that kept me distracted,” he says, glancing up at Galo’s face.

Galo smiles wider. “Am I things?”

Lio laughs low and flicks a nipple. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he chides.

“Aww, I was just hoping. Cuz I’ve been thinking about you,” Galo admits. “Pretty much non-stop since we met on that roof.”

“...Really?” Lio peers at him now with interest

“Yeah,” Galo says. “And not just— not like just in a sexy way! Although you are, really, really sexy,” he says, blush creeping up in his cheeks. “It’s just, I think you’re really cool, and interesting, and when I’m with you, something feels right. I can’t explain it.”

“Hmmm. Well, not to boost your already big ego, but it’s been hard to keep my mind off you too,” says Lio, looking away. “Since you saved my life a year ago. I’ve been... preoccupied, sometimes, thinking about it.”

“R-really?” Galo feels a reckless, warm feeling grow inside of his chest. “But, for a while there I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I was... going through a lot. Like you said. It made having these... _feelings_... complicated.”

“Feelings, huh?” Galo grins. “So you really _do_ like me!”

“Yes, you idiot, of course,” Lio huffs. “How many times do I have to say it!”

“I just like to hear it from you,” Galo says. In a moment that somehow feels more vulnerable than all of the sex they just had, he lowers his face to bury his nose in the hair on top of Lio’s head, placing a kiss to the warm spot on the crown of his head. He breathes in; Lio smells like warmth, like soap and sweat and sulfur.

Lio turns his head to look at Galo. “Did you just _sniff me_?”

“Mmmmmaybe?” Galo says, a hint of guilt in his tone, but not much.

Lio laughs. “You really are just like a big puppy, Gueira was right.”

“...Do you think I’m weird, starlight?”

“You _are_ weird,” Lio tells him matter-of-factly. “But so am I, I guess.”

“Then let’s do more weird stuff together! As, um.” Nervousness surges in Galo for a moment, before he manages to tamp it down. “As partners. If you’re into that.”

Lio doesn’t reply immediately. Despite everything the two of them have done and been through together, Galo feels a momentary chill of fear. He worries that Lio somehow would change his mind, call Galo a stupid, naïve slut and toss him aside.

Instead, what Lio does is pull back from where he lays across Galo’s chest, and flip his entire body over so that he’s on his hands and knees. He slithers up Galo’s torso, moving sinuously over him before placing hands on either side of Galo’s head. A curved smile adorns his face, reminding Galo of that combat mech suit Lio used to wear. The long front locks of his mint green hair dangle downwards, and his bangs partially cover smoldering magenta eyes as Lio meets his gaze.

“Yeah,” Lio says. “Okay. Let’s do it.” He presses a closed-mouth kiss to Galo’s lips, just for a few seconds, then pulls away wearing a smile. “...Partner.”

Delight blooms in his chest as Galo leans forward to kiss him back, chaste at first and then _definitely_ not. A sweet, warm hunger grows with every second they spend intertwined. It’s addicting.

Galo thinks he could get used to this.

***

Over the next couple of days, Galo learns a lot more things about Lio.

First and foremost, it turns out that underneath the stern and authoritative veneer of the Mad Burnish leader, Lio Fotia is a _brat_. He's needy, and always likes to be at the center of Galo's attention whenever they're together, nudging him with a foot or sharp elbow to refocus his attention whenever Galo gets distracted. Galo, of course, doesn't mind this at all, as his attention is usually somewhere in the vicinity of Lio anyway. Lio's laser-focused mentality is a nice complement to Galo's sometimes scattered thoughts. It's one of the reasons they work so well together, he thinks.

Galo also quickly learns that Lio is possessive — he kinda knew that already, from when they danced together in front of all of Tartaros. But now he realizes that that was Lio being _subtle_. He has no interest in subtlety anymore, like—

"Attention everyone." Lio stands in their dining area with one foot up on a chair, raising his voice just high enough to lift Meis and Gueira out of their sleepy morning stupor. "I have something important to say. Galo and I are together now."

Meis and Gueira exchange a look, and then they both begin to crack up.

"Boss, we know," says Gueira after a peal of barking laughs.

"Y'all ain't quiet," drawls Meis. Gueira gives an exaggerated moan as if to demonstrate.

" _Oh, Galo, fuck, oh—_ " Gueira imitates, while Meis sniggers behind his hand.

Lio's expression stays stoic, but his cheeks flush red with heat. "So long as you understand—"

"Really, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but have a bit more faith in your generals' powers of observation, will ya?" Gueira says. "I have eyes and ears, yo!"

"Yeah," agrees Meis. "All I gotta do is take one look at Galo's neck to tell me everything I need to know."

Galo, seated at the other side of the dining table, looks down at himself and blushes now too. Spotted across his neck, shoulders, and bare chest are sharp little bruises, hickeys left over from last night's sexcapades. He almost never feels self-conscious about his body when he goes around shirtless, but now that Meis has pointed it out he feels a teeny bit like he should maybe put on a shirt, despite the heat of the day. But there's really no point to it; even if he wore a shirt, he wouldn't even be able to cover it all.

"Yes, yes, I get it—" Lio says, exasperated.

"For real! He looks like he got mauled by a wood chipper!" Gueira's laughing so hard at this point, he's having a hard time staying upright in his chair.

"Or a lion, maybe," says Meis with a grinning look towards Lio.

“That’s enough out of you both,” Lio says, arms crossed, tapping the toe of his boot impatiently.

“Hey, if we had to listen to y’all going at it last night, then you gotta put up with us havin’ a little fun about it,” says Gueira. “ _Oh, yes, Galo, just like that—_ “

Lio abruptly turns his back on the both of them and begins walking towards the door. “Come on, Galo,” he says over his shoulder, “we’re leaving.”

And Galo, like always, follows him.

There’s more that Galo learns as they spend time together. Lio opens up to him like an origami fortune teller with infinite folds, where each answer reveals further questions and mysteries. He finds out Lio had a different name, once, before he burned his old life to cinders and chose a new identity for himself. He also discovers— to some relief, not that he’d truly believed otherwise— that Lio’s parents did not perish in the house fire he started, being out of the country at the time, but disowned him after that. It’s something Lio feels little remorse over. Galo can’t help but sympathize; they seemed like pretty shitty people, overall.

Galo learns about Lio’s time as a member of Mad Burnish, and then at its helm as its leader. Despite all he thought he knew about Lio’s gang, he hadn’t fully realized how much broader their goals were beyond ‘ _set shit on fire’_.

The most important thing Mad Burnish did on a regular basis, it turned out, was make deliveries.

“Merchants typically wouldn’t deal with Burnish,” Lio explains, “so most Burnish communities had to be self-reliant for the most part. But even an isolated settlement needs supplies and materials from time to time, and to send messages to other Burnish, so that’s where we came in.”

“So you were like... the post office, only super extra badass?”

“Sure, I guess if you like,” says Lio with a shrug. “Most Burnish-only communities were nomadic, or based in hidden locations. Only us messengers knew exactly where they were all located. That made us targets.”

“Wow... so you must’ve been constantly on the run, huh,” Galo says. “Sounds pretty exhausting.”

“At times, but what we did was too important,” Lio says. “We were the only thing connecting the Burnish together, in some cases. Without us, many of those communities would just dissolve, or be rounded up and tortured by Freeze Force. So we were more than just a band of messengers and arsonists,” he explains. “We were our people’s hope.”

“Whoa... that’s badass, Lio.”

“I know,” Lio says, smug. “Although... around the time I joined, our methods were... different. Rougher, more careless. We didn’t care who else got hurt, or even killed in the process.”

“You mentioned that,” Galo says. He casts a look around to make sure nobody is nearby, then says in a hushed tone, “was that when Royce was in charge?”

Lio nods. “The Promare made us burn,” he says, “and Royce was only too eager to obey their commands. He said it was our reason for being. To live is to burn, and one day, all will be lost in the fire." There's a faraway look in his eye.

Galo feels a pang inside of his chest at Lio's words. Images flash one beside the other in his memory: a burning skyscraper, serpentine Burnish flares lashing out into the air. Lio, in his obsidian black armor, sleek and dangerous and resolute. Lio, with the other Burnish refugees around a fire in a cave, battle-worn but with fire in his eyes. A great dragon of flame, arcing over the city; burning tears of Lio's rage and grief raining down on the streets of Promepolis. Lio, in the core of the Parnassus, body strung up like a marionette, the dim light inside him fading out.

_To live is to burn. One day we will all be lost in the fire._

"That's not true!" exclaims Galo. Lio jumps; Galo realizes his voice is a little too loud. He's feeling too many emotions right now to turn it down, though. "You _can_ live without burning, Lio! We changed that when we set fire to the world together!"

He clasps Lio's hand in his own. Lio looks up at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Galo..."

"I mean it," Galo tells him. "I'll put out those flames every time, so you never need to burn yourself again."

"But... what if..." Lio looks aside. "...What if... I wanted to burn?"

The pulsing emotion inside of Galo's chest stills, for a moment. "Do you, Lio?"

"...Sometimes."

Galo looks at Lio, so complicated, so strong. A hero to his people, a savior to everyone, and Galo loves him so much he doesn't know what to do with himself. He would do anything for Lio. He'd even start a fire for his sake.

Now, though, he squeezes Lio's hand. "I have an idea," he says. "Starlight, come with me."

"Galo, what are you--"

"No time to explain! Just, trust me, it'll be really, really awesome," Galo tells him, and then begins walking with purpose, pulling Lio along with him.

He leads him down the stone steps set into the sloping green hills, past the mud-brick homes and the burbling hot spring river. He ignores Lio's repeated queries about where he's taking them, responding with only a grin as they cross the cobblestone town square where, just a few days prior, they had danced together beneath the flickering torchlight. He leads him further downhill, until they reach the bottommost point of the valley, standing at the shores of the glittering blue lake. Turquoise water laps at calcified shores, and the sun shimmers across the water's surface.

Lio turns to face him, hands on his hips. "This place is certainly very scenic," he says, "but I still don't know why you brought me here."

"...Oh! That's right," says Galo, who was momentarily distracted by admiring how pretty Lio looks with the bright blue lake as a backdrop. "Hold on just a minute. It should be around here somewhere..."

He scrutinizes their surroundings until he finds what he's searching for, stashed beneath a rock. He pulls out the cloth-wrapped bundle and returns to Lio's side, who is watching him with interest and bemusement.

"Here, look!" he says, and unrolls the bundle with a flourish.

"Galo, are those..." Lio stares at the objects in his arms, a crease in his brow. "Are those _fireworks?_ From the Fire Festival?"

"Yup!" Galo says, grinning even wider.

"Did you _steal_ those?"

"Well..." he scratches at the short-cropped hair at the back of his head. "D'you remember after the bonfire that night, you went right to bed, and I went for a walk instead? Well, I kinda went back to the festival, and saw that they had a box of these things lying around unattended. These are a serious fire hazard! What if a child tried to play with them and got burned? I couldn't just... _ignore_ it! My firefighter's spirit won't allow that sorta thing!"

"So you stole them," Lio says, a smile now showing on his face.

"Not stole! I _strategically relocated_ a potentially dangerous object to somewhere it is far less likely to start a fire that threatens anyone."

"...And then you didn't tell anyone about it."

"Well... look," Galo says, pulling out one of the rockets and moving up beside Lio, pressing it into his hands. "Just point it away from you. Out over the lake is fine. Then when you're ready, just light the fuse, and... uh." He pats his pockets. "Sorry, Lio, but would you happen to have a light--"

"I've got it," Lio says, as his deft fingers produce a lighter from a fold in his form-fitting leather jacket. In a movement too quick for Galo's eyes to follow, he sets the end of the fuse alight, and the flame sizzles as the spark travels up towards the head of the rocket.

"Okay, now just hold it away with your arms extended—"

"I know how a firework operates, Galo—"

"You're not immune to fire anymore, I don't want anything to happen to—"

 _Ffffffsssssshhhhhhh..._ the burning fuse reaches the body of the firework, sending the rocket blasting out over the surface of the lake with a faint whistle. For a moment, he thinks it's a dud, then--

BANG! The firework explodes over the lake, sending echoes up the valley. It releases a shower of sparks, glittering lights reflected in the water's glassy surface. They drift downwards for a few seconds before each tiny light winks out, leaving only a wispy smoke trail behind.

Galo and Lio are silent for a moment. Then Lio turns to him.

"Give me another one," he says, and there's a smile on his face.

One by one, and then two or three at once, they light the fireworks and launch them out over the lake. Lio, grinning with delight, has Galo pick him up on his shoulders, dual-wielding lit fireworks in each hand. That's probably not safe firework handling procedures, either, but Galo's brain says, fuck it.

"Galo de Lion!" he shouts as both firecrackers explode far above them in a momentary blaze of color.

"Lio de Galon!"

"Hey! What are you two doing?!"

Galo turns to look at this unexpected third voice, Lio still sitting on his shoulders. Standing up the sloping hill overlooking the lake shore is Harley, hands on their hips. Despite their face being hidden away behind the black plastic of their motorcycle helmet, they radiate a look of stern disappointment.

"Uh, I can explain--" Galo starts to say.

"No, allow me," Lio slides down off his shoulder. He reaches out to grasp Galo's hand, twining their fingers together before turning to face Harley.

"Where did you get those fireworks? Those belong to Royce," Harley says. "They're meant to be used only for ceremonies."

"There's a very simple explanation for all of this," Lio tells them, in his typical stern, authoritative tone of voice that he uses when giving orders to Mad Burnish.

"Oh, really." Harley crosses their arms. "I look forward to hearing it, then, Master Lio."

"That reason is..." Lio squeezes Galo's hand in his own. Galo glances at his face, and sees that underneath his serious veneer, a corner of his mouth is curled up in a smirk. He stares Harley down. "... _You'll never catch us alive!!_ "

With that, Lio takes off running down the lake shore, pulling Galo along behind him.

The sound of Harley's heavy footfalls echo behind them in the distance, but Galo doesn't even cast a glance back over his shoulder as he and Lio run away together, heart pounding and adrenaline surging in his blood.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, Lio jogs to a stop. They're in a rocky ravine, framed by tall boulders and cacti, out of sight of Tartaros. The moment they stop running, Galo rests his back against a large rock and Lio collapses against him, leaning his fluffy head on Galo’s chest. They're both panting, trying to catch their breath. As their heavy breathing fades away, it’s replaced by a sound of muffled giggling.

Lio, head tucked into the nape of Galo’s neck, begins to laugh. The feeling of his laughter — how it reverberates through him, escaping in wispy breaths on Galo’s skin — provokes a similar reaction from Galo, too, until the both of them are laughing their asses off, like a pair of perfect idiots.

Eventually Lio’s laughter subsides, but he remains cuddled against Galo’s chest, still wearing a small smile. “That was fun,” he says.

“I’m glad,” says Galo.

“How did you know?”

“Know what? I don’t know anything,” Galo says. When Lio playfully rolls his eyes at him, he elaborates, “You said you still wanted to burn sometimes, so I was thinking of a good way for you to burn something in a safe and fun way, and that’s when I remembered.”

“So wait, you really _did_ take those fireworks because you were worried about fire safety?”

“Yeah, of course! That stuff’s important, you know!”

Lio chuckles. “I should have known. You’ve got a one-track mind.”

“Hey! I’ve got two tracks, at least,” Galo objects, counting on his fingers. “Fire safety... and you.”

“Mmmh,” Lio hums pleasantly against Galo’s skin. He tilts his head up and meets Galo’s gaze. “I like that.”

“You do?” Fondness thrums in Galo’s chest, and this time his pounding heart isn’t just because of their impromptu sprint.

“Yeah,” says Lio. “You’re very... considerate.”

“I try!” Galo says. Then, he realizes he’s being a bit loud, so he lowers his voice. “Lio... I know that when we closed that portal, it changed things for every Burnish. I still think we did the right thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong to want to remember what it felt like before.” He grins again. “As long as I’m your partner, Lio, you can start all the fires you like! I’ll be right beside you to put them out every time.”

Lio laughs into him. “Is that supposed to be you being romantic?”

“Uh, yeah! Is it working?”

As an answer, Lio stands on his tiptoes and presses a kiss into the underside of Galo’s chin.

“Yeah,” he tells Galo. “It’s working just fine.” There’s a bright-burning, smoldering look in his magenta eyes, the way he looks at Galo.

“Well, good! Because I wanted our first date to be something special,” Galo says.

Lio pauses. “...This was a date?”

“Yeah, sure! I tried to fill it with things you like, like explosions and setting stuff on fire.”

“Don’t forget defying authority,” Lio points out.

“Yeah! So, starlight, how’d I do?”

Lio smiles, and trails his hands up Galo’s chest to wrap them around the back of his neck. “Well,” he says, “I haven’t been on many dates. Unless you count the Fire Festival a couple days ago.”

Galo shakes his head, blue hair flopping across his eyes. “Doesn’t count,” he says. “We weren’t together at that point. Not properly, anyway.”

“In that case,” says Lio, “then this was probably the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“Really?” Galo grins widely. “I’m glad to hear it! I’ll take you on more awesome dates, too, that’ll make this seem boring by comparison.”

“Hmmmm, that does sound nice,” says Lio. “But, right now... I can think of something that’ll make _this_ one even better.”

“What do you m—mmmph,” Galo starts to say, as Lio captures his lips with a kiss.

The feeling exploding inside of Galo’s heart as he cradles Lio in his arms, kissing him, is brighter than any firework. The heat shared between them is hotter than a burning building, hot as the blazing core of a far-off distant star.

Galo doesn’t know what new joys and challenges tomorrow will bring — or the tomorrow after that, and after that, and further tomorrows beyond. Right now, though, he has Lio, real and soft and warm. For a little while, all the rest of that stuff may as well not exist. Here, and now, for a moment, the only real thing is the glowing spark of warmth and desire, like Galo’s entire world cupped safely between his hands.

He has to protect that flame, for as long as he can. It’s the only thing that has ever really, truly mattered.


	10. Chapter 10

Days pass, which gradually turn into weeks, and in that time, Galo and Lio are hardly separate from each other for longer than a few minutes at a time.

Galo can hardly believe how easy it is— like breathing, almost. Waking up in the morning with Lio curled into him like a cat against a radiator. Walking into town together, hand in hand, greeting the same people every day as they go about their routines. Galo gets to know the man that’s building a new house next door, the woman who hangs up her linens each morning, the farmer who brings in fresh fruit to market every day, and the rowdy kids who laugh and chase each other through the streets.

Galo’s shoulder heals, and he helps the man building his house, helps pick hard-to-reach fruit from the tops of trees. Lio minds the children, and aids their mother in stitching new clothes for them to grow into. They’re finding all the little ways they can help, in whatever way they can.

Lio seems happy, too, although he goes about it in his reserved sort of way. Galo reckons he spent too much time keeping his emotions on lockdown to feel totally comfortable with public displays of affection. Still, when they’re together, he grips Galo’s hand tight enough that the pulse passes between them, skin to skin. And then later, in private, he folds into Galo like they’re meant to be that way, two differently-colored puzzle pieces that nevertheless fit together exactly.

And then, late at night—

“Galo!” Lio exclaims, accusatory, and buffets Galo’s head softly with a pillow. “What do you think you’re _doing_?!”

Galo looks up from where he was blowing raspberries against Lio’s stomach. “What?” He says, grinning shamelessly.

“You— you are _ridiculous_ ,” Lio says, a hot blush coloring his face and upper torso. (When Lio blushes, it’s with his whole body. Galo’s made it his mission to find all the new and unique ways to make him do that.) “I can’t _believe_ I used to think you were sexy.”

“Aww,” says Galo, pushing himself on his elbows, still smiling down at Lio. “You still think I’m sexy, though. Um, right?”

“Not when you _ruin the mood_ every time,” Lio answers with a groan, though he’s still smiling a little. “You hardly ever take this seriously.”

“Starlight, I thought we were just cuddling. Although,” Galo says, his eyes darkening, “if you wanted me to be _serious_ —“

They lock eyes for a charged second, and suddenly the silence between is heavy, almost oppressive.

Then Galo tickles him.

“Haha— no, wait, stop!”

Galo stops, obediently. They’re both breathing pretty heavily when they meet each other’s eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” they both say at the same time.

“No, you first,” says Galo, dipping his head meekly.

Lio reaches a hand up and runs it through the spikes of Galo’s hair. “I guess... you’re just, not what I expected. Or maybe you’re _exactly_ as ridiculous as I expected. I can’t tell which.”

“Starlight, I have no idea what you’re saying,” Galo tells him.

“It’s hard to explain,” Lio says, tracing a seam in their bedspread with one finger. “I spent so much time alternating between agonizing over you and avoiding you, because I had no idea how to handle the way I felt around you. But really you’re just... you,” he says. “You’ve never been anybody but yourself.”

“Uh. Duh?” Galo smiles crookedly, and pushes himself up on his elbows to look at Lio better. “Hi, I’m Galo.”

“Yes, I know, you big doofus,” Lio says, laughing.

“Although... for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I’m not... whoever it was that you thought I was, before we started doing this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Lio tells him. “I like the real you.”

“Yeah, but I could be like, some brooding sexy serious guy, who doesn’t ruin the mood every time.”

“If you were, then you wouldn’t be _you_ , and I wouldn’t be into you so much.” There’s a fluttering feeling inside of Galo’s chest at Lio’s words.

“Okay,” Galo says, and stretches his body out fully beside Lio. “But, just so we’re clear, you _do_ think that I’m sexy, right?”

“Galo,” Lio says with a groan, “You’re six foot three, with a body made out of solid muscle and a face like a Greek god. Of _course_ I think you’re sexy.”

“Mmm, that’s all I wanted to hear,” Galo says, and leans in for a kiss, which Lio obliges without hesitation.

Afterwards, they lie in bed curled into each other, and Galo drifts into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Lio’s life is almost perfect. _So_ perfect, in fact, that he’s starting to grow suspicious.

Everyone in Tartaros is endlessly kind, and they treat Lio and his friends like heroes, which he supposes they are. But once the hero-worship wears off a bit, they’re something different. They’re _neighbors_ , which is something Lio heard about but has never had before, seeing as he never had any sort of permanent residence during the years he was on the run with Mad Burnish, or afterwards.

And Galo is... well, _Galo_. He effortlessly broke down all the barriers that Lio had spent the past year meticulously constructing around himself, and waltzed into Lio’s life like none of that mattered. Which... it probably didn’t, actually. It turns out that denying and fighting his feelings for Galo was way, waaaay more difficult than just being honest with himself.

And he’s very, very warm. Lio hasn’t woken up shivering once since they started doing this... whatever it was. Boyfriend thing. He supposes.

The only sore spot in Lio’s perfect life is Royce. He still hasn't figured out what exactly Royce is planning; it occupies the back of his mind like a persistent ache. But Royce has been strangely scarce in the days since the Fire Festival. He stops by to check in on them at the guest house once a week or so, but other than that he mainly keeps to himself inside the Temple of Flame, leaving Harley to do the day-to-day tending to their needs, which aren’t much. There’s no further mentions of rekindling the Promare, no further fire-related miracles, and none of the Burnish in town show any indication of getting their powers back. 

Lio would know if there had been any stirring; he's been listening carefully, in quiet moments, for the murmuring voice of the Promare. Once, they were a constant thrum in the back of his mind. But what meagre voices he hears back are only the echoes of a fading memory.

And then, several weeks into their stay, Lio receives a summons.

“Lio Fotia, Lord Royce requests your presence in the Temple of Flame.”

Harley tells him this as Lio, Meis, Gueira, and Galo are all eating breakfast. They enter through the front door, their large, helmeted body flanked on either side by two of Royce’s other black riders.

Lio freezes, placing his hot coffee cup down on the tabletop. “For what reason?”

“It is a private matter. The Flamespeaker was very insistent.”

 _So he’s the Flamespeaker, now, too,_ Lio thinks. “Fine. Give us some time to prepare, and we’ll be up shortly—“

“Not your men. You, alone,” insists Harley.

Lio glances at Gueira and Meis, and then at Galo, who is frowning with concern, clearly unhappy about this.

Lio’s not thrilled, either. But given how they’ve spent all this time here without anyone so much as twitching a finger to try and harm them, he can’t imagine Royce would try anything on them now.

“Lio,” says Galo, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Going in there by yourself?”

Lio glances at Harley and the other two henchmen, waiting expectantly by the doorway. “I don’t believe I have a choice,” he says.

“That is correct,” says Harley. “But you need not worry. It is a great honor to be chosen. Only a select few are allowed within the sacred temple.”

“If it’s such a sacred place, then why doesn’t he let anyone see inside? Sounds to me like he’s got something to hide in there,” says Galo.

The temperature in the room feels like it grows a few degrees colder. Although he can’t see Harley’s eyes behind the black plastic, Lio imagines they’re glaring at the four of them.

“You would do well to control your Flameless consort better, Master Fotia,” Harley says in a low rumble.

Lio just shrugs. “He’s free to speak his mind,” he says, and stands up from the table. “I’ll accompany you to the Temple. I promise they won’t cause any trouble while I’m gone.” He makes eye contact with Gueira, Meis, and Galo in turn.

Gueira gives a salute. “Roger that, boss.”

“We’ll keep Galo entertained so he doesn’t do anything reckless,” says Meis.

“H—Hey! I can behave myself just fine! I was top ranked in the Academy—“

“—Promepolis Academy, yes, we know,” Lio says, cutting Galo off abruptly before he inadvertently reveals he’s a firefighter. That’s something he doesn’t think would go over well among the Burnish, so they’ve managed to keep that aspect of Galo’s personality mostly under wraps. But, given Galo’s tendency to blab and brag about his exploits, he requires constant reminders to keep from slipping.

Harley just stares out from behind their dark plastic helmet, and Lio can sense their growing impatience.

“Very well,” Lio says, drawing himself up straight and channeling the voice he used to command Mad Burnish, “Take me to Royce.”

Harley nods, and holds the door open for Lio. He follows, but pauses on the threshold to look back towards Galo and his men. As his gaze connects with Galo’s, he feels a wave of concern emanating from the other man. Even without saying anything, the meaning is clear as day: _Don’t trust these guys_.

Lio gives an imperceptible nod, then departs, following Harley up the hill towards the Temple of Flame.

As they approach the large, dark building, Lio contemplates it, not for the first time. It’s so totally different from all the other buildings and structures in Tartaros, which were built by hand in the last year using relatively primitive materials and construction techniques. The Temple of Flame, by contrast, is clearly far older, predating the Great World Blaze last year, yet its architecture feels more modern. Its massive size and brutalist appearance make it clear that it was built by machine, rather than human hands. It looks less like a temple and more like a— a facility of some sort, like those Foresight Foundation compounds which Mad Burnish used to set fire to with great gusto.

The only recent addition appears to be the torch sconces that are mounted on its walls, which burn steadily, day and night, overlooking Tartaros like the all-seeing eye of the Eternal Flame.

They ascend the flight of steps, and at their peak, standing just before the entrance to the Temple, is Royce. He’s dressed in the long black trench coat he wore on the first day Lio and the others arrived in Tartaros. When he sees Lio, he grins that wolfish grin.

“Lio! So you came after all. Good, good.”

“Your men didn’t give me much of a choice,” replies Lio stiffly, side-eyeing Harley, and taking notice of all the other black riders around them, too. Royce has three or four of his own men in addition to the two that escorted Harley and Lio from the guest house. His show of force was subtle, but the message it sent was obvious: if Lio tried anything against Royce, he’d soon regret it.

Royce laughs in response. “...Well, no, I suppose they didn’t. But I am glad to have you here, regardless. I’ve been looking forward to having a talk with you ever since the Fire Festival.”

Lio shoots Royce a suspicious look. “In that case, why not just summon me right away? Why wait two whole weeks?”

“Ah,” Royce says with a flourish, “Things have just been so busy. You know what it’s like, being a leader. So many responsibilities, so little time...” His red eyes flash in a manner that’s not entirely friendly. “Besides, I wanted to make sure you and your men had ample time to get settled in. How are you enjoying your new abode?”

“It’s fine,” Lio responds curtly. “Why am I here, Royce?”

Royce’s smile dims a few watts. “Never been much for small talk, have you. Always direct and to the point. Fine, fine,” he says, and snaps his fingers. At his command, two of his men pull on the large door that marks the front entrance of the Temple. It slides open with a heavy grating sound of steel on stone, revealing a gap wide enough for two people to walk through, and darkness within.

“Please, enter,” Royce says, beckoning Lio into the Temple. “There’s so much we have to discuss.”

Lio glances around, but there’s nowhere to go but within, so he follows Royce inside. Harley follows behind, and there’s the grating sound of the door closing again as the light disappears and they are surrounded by grey darkness. After a moment though, there is a distant _click_ and the interior is illuminated, though not by torches— like the rest of Tartaros— but instead by electric lights, set into the wall at regular intervals.

The room Lio finds himself in is a wide hallway, fairly utilitarian in its construction, completely unlike any sort of temple Lio has ever seen. The hallway stretches onwards, disappearing into darkness where the electric lamps remain unlit. Periodically, there are sets of doors placed symmetrically on either side, with plaques beside them that are too far away to read.

There’s an immediate unease to this place, as well as an uncomfortable sort of familiarity that Lio doesn’t want to think about much.

“This doesn’t look like a temple. What is this place?”

Royce, several paces ahead, gives a low chuckle in response, which echoes against the blank concrete walls. “Ah... that’s a long story, one that I’ll be happy to fill you in on later, once we get to my private quarters.” The heels of his boots click against the linoleum as he strides purposefully forward.

The more time Lio spends in this unsettling place, the more it’s bringing up memories... of cold hallways, armed guards, and rooms like freezers...

Royce reaches a door, nondescript like every other one, marked only with a number. This he opens, and leads them down another hallway that ends in a much thicker, blast-proof door. He produces a golden key from his jacket, inserts it into the lock, and opens the door.

The room beyond could not be more different from the rest of the facility, and Lio relaxes a little when he crosses the threshold. The linoleum floor is replaced with a red plush carpet, and there are several armchairs surrounding a large wooden table, strewn with books and papers. On one of the side walls, there is a brazier with a fire already burning in it, and its warmth fills the room. Bookshelves stacked with books flank the fireplace on either side, and woven tapestries decorate the walls. It’s obvious to Lio that this place is Royce’s private quarters.

Royce takes a seat in a high-backed wooden chair on the opposite side of the table, and gestures for Lio to sit down. Lio does so, though not without nonchalantly spreading his legs to take up as much space as possible, in order to show Royce he’s not intimidated.

Royce gestures to Harley, who approaches his side. He whispers a command, and they nod in assent and go up to the fireplace, lifting a glass bottle off the shelf above the mantelpiece. They fill two chalices and set them before Royce and Lio, before taking a seat in the far corner of the room.

Royce lifts his cup and raises it to Lio.

“This is some of our finest firewine, made out of grapes grown here in Tartaros,” Royce tells him. “Have some, if you like.”

Lio eyes his own glass. “No, thanks,” he says without touching it.

Royce shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says, taking a long draught from his own glass. When finished, he gives an exaggerated gasp of satisfaction. “Ahh. Truly exceptional. There’s something in the volcanic soil here, I think.”

Lio continues to meet him with a stony silence. Royce’s charms may have worked on the rest of the Burnish here, but they have no effect on Lio.

Royce seems to recognize this, as well. He sets down the wine glass and laces his fingers together on the desk, a serious expression forming across his brow as he studies Lio like a curious specimen, a sample on a microscope slide.

Finally, he speaks again. “So, Lio. I’m sure you’ve figured out the truth about this place by now.” He gestures to the building that surrounds them. “This place isn't really a temple. It was originally built by the Foresight Foundation, meant for a much different purpose.”

The name _Foresight_ sends a jolt of cold through Lio. He struggles not to let the surprise show on his face, continuing to face Royce with that same rigid indifference.

Royce continues: “The day we met, you said you thought I was in prison. That’s only part of the truth,” he says. “In reality, after I was captured, they sent me here: to an experimental testing facility in a remote location. That was where I met Harley.” He casts a glance towards where Harley is seated by the rear wall. “They used us to test out Freeze Force tech, anti-Burnish weaponry. They wanted to study what made us Burnish... to better understand the nature of the Promare.”

Now, Lio can’t keep the surprise off his face as his eyes widen in shock. “You know about—“

“—Yes, of course we know about the Promare,” says Royce. He waves a hand at the room around them, the shelves stocked with books and binders. “This place is chock-full with reports on everything that Foresight could find out about ‘em. What they are. Where they’re from. Why they bond to Burnish. Fascinating stuff.”

“You knew,” growls Lio, “So why hide it from your Burnish subjects here in Tartaros? They think the Promare are gods! You've been telling them that if they believe hard enough, they’ll come back.” He bangs a fist on the table, causing his wine to tremble in its glass. “You’re feeding them all lies so that they’ll follow you blindly!”

“...Who says I’m lying?” Royce says with a smile, firelight glinting in his eyes.

Lio is momentarily stunned.

“You— you can’t,” he murmurs. “The portal— we closed it. There’s no way... they’re light-years away from Earth by now.”

“Tsk, Lio. And here I thought you were the visionary leader of Mad Burnish.” Royce shakes his head. “Nothing’s truly impossible. Especially when you’ve got a _brightly burning soul_.”

Hearing those words spoken by Royce, and not Galo, rattles Lio to his core. He feels dizzy and off-center, like gravity is slipping away. He glances at the wine glass — has Royce drugged him? — but the drink remains untouched.

Still, he mumbles, “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Surely you must know something of the nature of the Promare by now,” says Royce. “They’re not just a teeny-tiny pilot light inside you. They’re _sentient_ , emotional creatures. They respond to us, speak to us, resonate with us. And they resonate with _you_ most of all, Lio.” His red eyes blaze like the heart of a fire. “For whatever reason... your soul and the Promare’s were intertwined. I believe that bond was how you were able to close the portal. And I think that, given the right conditions... with support from yours truly, and with the help of some... _things_ left over here in the lab... you could open it again.”

Lio stares at him, dumbfounded. “You want me to... reopen the portal?”

“Yes. That’s why I summoned you here today,” Royce says.

“You... want me. To reopen the portal to the Promare homeworld. That I closed,” Lio repeats.

“Just think about it!” Royce’s eyes shine. “We Burnish are some of the most resourceful, hard-working people in the world. You’ve seen how much we can accomplish in just a year, even without our fire. Now, imagine what it would be like if we had our powers! We could build the greatest civilization in history!”

“Are you CRAZY?!” Lio stands up abruptly, pounding both fists on the table between them. Wine sloshes out of his glass and onto the tabletop. “The Promare nearly _destroyed Earth_!”

“Hmm, perhaps...” Royce says, seemingly unfazed by Lio’s outburst. “But, they were responding to the anguish of the Burnish, weren’t they? Our people were being tortured, and the Promare cried out in sympathy.”

“Yes, exactly. So bringing them back would just risk that happening all over again!”

“Only if Burnish are made to suffer.” Royce grins again. “But what if we weren’t? What if Burnish were prosperous and happy? We could have a _partnership_ with the Promare. Two halves of a single burning soul.”

“That’s...” Lio sits back down in his chair again. “I... don’t know.”

“Think about it. We would be heroes,” Royce says. “Generations of Burnish to come would know our names. You could be the new Prometheus, bringer of Flame.”

Lio shakes his head, mint green hair flying everywhere. “What about everybody else? They would still hate and fear us Burnish.”

“...Ah,” Royce says, appearing pensive. He drums his fingers on the tabletop. “I should've figured. That Flameless boy-toy of yours is clouding your judgment.”

“He’s not my— that’s not the point!”

“You’ve always been sympathetic to them, haven’t you, Lio,” Royce says. “But all that one-sided sympathy, it gets exhausting, doesn’t it?” He looks over Lio with a knowing smirk. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you this past year, you know. I know what you’ve been up to, out in the borderlands. It’s hard, isn’t it? Fighting for the Burnish when so many people, they just don’t _care_. They’d as soon see us all disintegrate to ash than lift a finger to help us out of our plight.”

“That’s— not true,” Lio objects. “Not all humans are bad. And they certainly don’t deserve to burn!”

“Hey, hey, who said anything about burning anybody?” Royce shrugs. “We’ll keep them around, of course. After all, we’ll need people to clean our homes, wash our dishes and warm our beds.”

“You want Burnish to rule everybody.”

“Sure, why not?” Royce shrugs. “When we have the Promare... we’re literally everything they are, but better. We combine the intelligence of humanity with the incredible powers of an extraterrestrial star. There’s never been anything like the Burnish. We already reshaped human history. And eradicating that connection— severing us from our Flame— is akin to wiping out the next stage in human evolution.”

“Are you forgetting everything we went through? What _you_ went through, in this very facility?!” Lio gestures to the building that surrounds them. “They hated us, Royce. They hunted us down, captured and tortured us. Every Burnish man, woman and child was born into a cursed life. Releasing the Promare set us Burnish free!”

“Freeze Force is no more,” Royce says. “And Kray Foresight is in prison. The only ones who could oppose us now are— mere firefighters. Civilians. Against an organized group of Burnish, even the mighty city of Promepolis doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Don’t underestimate firefighters,” Lio says.

“How many of us were in Mad Burnish, at its height? Thirty, maybe?” Royce leans back in his chair. “Tartaros has a population of two hundred fifty-seven, and growing. Soon, more Burnish will arrive from the distant corners of the continent, and even from the heart of Promepolis. And every Burnish remembers how it felt— hearing the voices of the Promare. Feeling their warmth.” He fixes Lio with an unflinching stare. “Don’t lie to me, Lio. Wouldn’t you give just about _anything_ to feel it again? To never feel cold again?”

“I...” Lio feels dizzy. He remembers Meis asking him that same question. He is suddenly hyper-aware of that little nodule of cold located just above and behind his heart where his Promare used to reside. The more he focuses on it, the more the feeling of cold starts to spread, despite the warm fire in the room. It bites inside the marrow of his bones. No matter where he goes, or whatever he does, there can be no escaping the omnipresent chill.

Still, Lio is nothing if not resolute. He looks up at Royce, magenta eyes flashing. “How I feel doesn’t matter,” he tells him through grit teeth. “The only thing that does is what’s best for the Burnish.”

“How noble and selfless of you,” Royce says with a sly grin. “And while you’re busy protecting your fellow Burnish, be careful that you’re not holding them back.”

Lio sets his jaw and stares at Royce, his spine rigid. “Your plan is insane. I’m not helping you.”

Royce sighs, leaning his chin against his fist propped up on the table. Strangely, despite Lio's direct refusal, he doesn't seem particularly angry or upset.

“Well, Lio, I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed... or surprised,” Royce tells him. “You always did have that obstinate little spark inside you. Is it just because you hate me, I wonder?” He studies Lio. “Or... could it be that firefighter you keep in your bed?”

Lio grits his teeth. “Galo has nothing to do with this.”

“Hmm.” Royce shuffles through some papers on his desk. One of them, Lio notices, is a calendar that features a familiar-looking face. “Galo Thymos. Star rookie of the Burning Rescue fire brigade in Promepolis.” He looks up from the desk, locking eyes with Lio again. “We may be far away from everybody, here in Tartaros, but that doesn’t mean we’re blind to the world. Of course, I had to figure out who your man-candy really was. But, really, Lio... a _firefighter_?”

“It’s not— that,” Lio mutters, feeling off-center. “He’s not just a firefighter. Galo saved my life, and the lives of countless Burnish. He’s a good man.”

“You should be careful, Lio,” warns Royce. “According to the news reports about this guy, he’s _very_ good at putting out fires. Be mindful he doesn’t put out yours.” He fixes Lio with a long, searching look. “...Or perhaps, he already has.”

Lio stands up again, abruptly, pushing his chair back. “I don’t have to listen to this,” he tells Royce, taking a step back towards the door. “I’ve already given you my answer. I think your plan to rekindle the Promare is insane. And I don’t appreciate your insinuation about my boyfriend,” he says. “I would like to leave, now.”

Royce bats a hand at him. “Fine, fine. Harley will show you the way out.” Harley stands from their corner of the room and approaches to unlock the door.

As the key turns in the latch, Royce speaks up again. “Lio... one last thing. You understand my need for secrecy around these things. I trust that you will be wise about who you share this information with.” He smiles then, a sharp-toothed predator’s smile. “Just, keep in mind what I said to you today. I do think we fare much better as allies than enemies.” He raises his glass in a salute. “Fire be with you, Lio.”

“Hmph,” Lio glares back at him, but nevertheless gives Royce a stiff nod before departing out the door held open by Harley.

The events that follow are a blur, as Lio allows himself to be led through the hallways and outside of the facility masquerading as the Temple of Flame. His mind is spinning with everything Royce said to him, and all of its implications.

 _Royce knows about the Promare,_ Lio thinks, again and again. _He believes he can bring them back... but he needs me to do it._ Suddenly, what he thought was patently absurd is not so crazy anymore. And it throws an entirely new light on what Royce was doing, housing them in such a lavish home, feeding them and providing for their every need...

In what seems like no time at all, Lio and Harley arrive back at the guest house. Harley informs Lio that they will give him some privacy, and departs, leaving Lio standing just outside the wide double doors of the front entrance.

Just as Lio is about to enter, the doors open by themselves and a familiar person steps out.

“Lio! I thought I heard the sound of your footsteps, and I was right!” says Galo, wearing his brilliant smile as always. “How did it go with Royce?”

Seeing him again, so soon after the meeting with Royce, is simultaneously like a breath of fresh air and getting slapped in the face by a towering ocean wave. Lio feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him.

Galo must have noticed the troubled look on Lio’s face, because he says, “Not good, huh? I’m tellin’ ya, there’s something about that guy that just rubs me the wrong way, you know?”

“Galo...” Lio says, and trails off, not able to form coherent sentences.

“Oh! But, before we get into that, there’s something I wanna get off my chest.” Galo’s expression grows more serious. “Listen, I really like spending time with you— like, really. But. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“...What is it?”

“Well...” Galo glances aside. “It’s been a few weeks now. And this place is really, really nice! But... we found the missing Burnish. And they aren’t hurt. So, I just wanted to know... how much longer until we can go back to Promepolis?”


	11. Chapter 11

“How much longer until we can go back to Promepolis?”

As soon as Galo asks the question, Lio’s eyes snap wide open. He doesn’t respond right away, and he’s not really looking at Galo at all, just staring into the middle distance.

After a prolonged pause, Galo says, “Hey, earth to Lio. You all right? Anyone home?” He asks, and waves a hand in front of Lio’s vacant stare.

 _That_ gets his attention. Lio’s hand shoots up, too quickly for the naked eye to follow, to grab Galo’s wrist. His vision focuses, smoldering emotion behind his pink eyes.

“—Not here,” Lio says abruptly, and then begins walking away from their house, pulling Galo after him.

“Starlight, where are you taking— ow! Watch the shoulder,” protests Galo, as the uncomfortable position Lio is holding his wrist sends twinges up his recently-healed arm.

Lio adjusts his grip to be more comfortable, at least, but he doesn’t answer Galo’s question as he leads him up a stone staircase that leads away from Tartaros, towards the steep cliff side that borders the valley.

“Lio, seriously— this isn’t like you,” says Galo, panting as he struggles to keep up with Lio’s rapid footsteps up the path. “What happened with Royce in the Temple of Flame? Did he say something that’s got you like this?” The longer Lio goes without responding, the more desperate Galo starts to feel, until he says, “Lio! Please don’t shut me out. I thought we were past this!”

That, at least, gets Lio to pause momentarily. He pauses with one foot up on the next stair, releases his grip on Galo’s wrist.

When he glances down towards Galo, several stairs below, Galo notices a deep crease in his brow and shadows underneath Lio’s eyes. He gets the immediate impression that something is very, very wrong.

“I need,” Lio says, “some space to think. If you don’t mind.”

Then he keeps climbing, leaving Galo on the stairs below. After a brief moment, Galo follows after him.

The path up the cliff side meanders back on itself, climbing to dizzying heights as the valley of Tartaros grows smaller and smaller down below. A cool breeze blows through, ruffling Galo’s hair and providing a small reprieve from the sweat that’s beading on his brow.

If climbing all of these stairs is tiring Lio out, he doesn’t show it at all as he continues upwards, while Galo falls further and further back as he struggles to keep up. He watches Lio’s diminishing form, head spinning as he wonders what must have happened inside the Flame Temple to get this sort of reaction out of him. Or was it something Galo said?

Eventually, they reach the top. By the time Galo hauls himself up the last step and stands with his hands resting on his knees, short of breath and drenched in sweat, Lio’s standing still beside the edge of the cliff, arms crossed and spine rigid, the wind playing through his mint green hair.

Once Galo catches his breath a bit, he approaches Lio and sits down beside him, dangles his feet over the edge. “That was— _haah_ — unexpected. Didn’t know I let my conditioning slip so much!” He tilts his head to one side to look up at Lio. “I’m guessing there’s a reason you dragged me up this mountain, starlight?”

Lio’s face gives an involuntary twitch as soon as Galo says his nickname, his upper lip curling.

“Galo,” says Lio, sternly. “I brought you here because we need to talk.”

Galo’s stomach plummets. “Did I... do something wrong?” He asks, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

Lio glances towards him for a brief moment. “...No. Well, not exactly...” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just. Everything suddenly got a lot more complicated.”

“Talk to me, Lio,” Galo says. “You know that you can tell me anything.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t think I can,” he says. “At least. Not the things that you don’t want to hear.”

A chill feeling grips inside of Galo’s chest. “Wh—what do you mean?”

“This entire time,” Lio says, “ever since you began traveling with me. Your goal has been to convince me to come back to Promepolis with you. Right?”

“Well... yeah, eventually!” Galo says. “My life is there. My job at Burning Rescue, and my team. And our mech! She needs you to pilot her, Lio.”

“I thought so,” Lio says. His frown deepens. “That’s why... I don’t know how to tell you this any other way. I’m not going back.”

“Starlight, what are you saying?”

“Do I have to repeat myself?!” Lio snaps. He looks down at Galo now, eyes wide with frustration and pain. “I already said it once! Don’t make this more difficult!”

Icy cold shock crystallizes across Galo’s insides. “B-but... I thought... you promised,”

Lio wrenches his gaze away from Galo and looks out over the cliff, down at Tartaros. “I never promised you anything,” he says, voice low yet raw. “You just came along anyway.”

“I thought we were partners,” Galo says weakly.

Lio spins to face him. “Partners? Is that what this is?!”

“Y-yeah, you know... like, two people who trust each other no matter what, who can count on each other for support and help out when the other is feeling down.”

Lio leans in until their faces are mere inches away. “Listen closely to me, Galo Thymos. Just because I let you— hold my hand, and call me pet names, and _fuck_ me— that doesn’t mean you get to _control my life_!”

“That isn’t— that’s not what I’m trying to do here!” Galo replies. “I’m saying you’re special to me! And I know it’s not just me. I know you feel it too,” he says, wringing his hands together, unable to fight the desperation as it rises up inside him. _Fuck it_ , he thinks. “I’m _in love with you,_ Lio!”

Galo’s confession rings hollowly off the cliffs that surround them, echoing away into silence. Eventually, there’s no sound but the howling wind. When he manages to look back at Lio, the other man won’t meet his eyes.

“...This is what I was afraid of,” Lio says after a long pause. “I knew you wouldn’t take it well.”

“I just don’t _understand—_ “

“Of course you don’t,” snaps Lio. “You aren’t Burnish, and you never will be.”

In that moment, it’s as if everything that was said and done between them in the past year was erased, like the snapping of a finger. Galo is back beside Lio in the core of the Parnassus, standing next to the capsule filled with ash, unable to bridge the emptiness that stretches between the two of them.

After a moment, Galo’s expression darkens. “ _Royce._ I bet it’s his fault.”

“Galo, please, don’t make this any more difficult—“

“It _has_ to be!” Galo insists. “You weren’t like this at all before he summoned you to the Flame Temple. He must have said something, or done something to you that’s making you act like this!”

“That’s— you really aren’t getting it,” says Lio, exasperated. “This has nothing to do with Royce. It’s just you, being too _stubborn_ to realize that sometimes people don’t just roll over and do whatever you want them to!” His expression grows even colder. “...but, as a matter of fact, yes, Royce did say something about you. He mentioned that you might be distracting me from my mission to protect the Burnish. I’m starting to believe... maybe, he was right about that.”

Galo feels something in his chest give way with an inaudible _pop_. It hurts way worse than his dislocated shoulder. “Lio...” he says, weakly, “does this mean you’re breaking up with me?”

Lio glances at him with eyes like cold fire. “It means... in order to get what we both want, maybe we’re better off doing it separately,” he says. “So... if you wanted to put it bluntly. Yes, I guess it does mean that.”

Galo can’t think of any more words to say. He hangs his head, looks down over the edge of the cliff. It’s a steep drop to the stairs down below. Still, he thinks that if he fell off the edge right now, it would hurt far less than the emotional pain that’s tearing him apart inside.

Behind him, Lio sighs. “You know, this isn’t easy for me, either.”

Galo tries to keep from sniffling; he’s a grown man, dammit! “Y-you’re not the one being dumped right now.”

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Lio says, and Galo can hear the hollowness in his voice. “It’s just... I learned some things from Royce today. Now that I know the truth about what he’s planning, I can’t in good faith leave this place in his hands. If it’s a choice between my own happiness, and the safety of the Burnish... then I’ll choose the Burnish every time.”

Silence reigns after that, with the only sound being the whooshing of the wind across the cliff.

Finally Galo gets to his feet. “Guess I’ll just... go, then,” he says, voice hoarse. “Don’ wanna distract you from your mission.” He takes a few steps towards the stairs, then pauses. “...I really am an idiot,” he says. “I thought you were different. But you’re still the same as when you left Promepolis.” He sighs. “Some things in this world really _are_ impossible, huh?”

Then he leaves, before Lio can say another word, and starts winding his way back down the mountain.

***

“Boss,” Gueira says that evening, “Where’s Galo?”

It took Lio several hours to come down from the peak of the mountain after Galo left. When he finally made his descent, the sun was setting down a ravine in the valley, and long, dark shadows stretched across Tartaros. By the time he reached the basin again, the entire valley was wreathed in grey twilight, verging into night.

Lio feels like shit. As soon as he’d returned to their home, he shucked all his leather clothes and lay curled in the too-large, too-cold bed. No matter how many layers of thick blankets he piled on top of himself, he couldn’t stop shivering. He longed to fall asleep, just so that he could have a break from the icy regret clawing inside of him, but sleep stubbornly eluded him.

Finally, he gives up, flinging the covers violently away from his body, and instead heads into the dining area, where Meis and Gueira are waiting for him.

When the first words out of Gueira’s mouth are asking about Galo, Lio meets him with an empty stare.

“...Not now,” Lio says. “I’ll explain later.” He pulls up a chair and sits down at the table beside his Mad Burnish generals, leaning heavily on his elbows as though his entire body is made of lead. “I found some things out that you need to know, first. About Royce, and what he’s planning.”

“Yeah? We’re all ears.”

Lio begins recounting everything that happened to him in the Temple of Flame. By the time he’s done, Meis and Gueira’s jaws are practically on the floor.

“Holy shit,” says Gueira. “So this whole time, he knew the truth? About the Promare?”

“It seems that way,” says Lio. “He said he’s also been keeping tabs on us all year. So all this,” he waves a hand at their house, “was probably set up a long time in advance, specifically for our sake.”

“He’s serious about reopening that portal, huh...” Meis says, frowning.

“Apparently. Though, he said he needs me, since I’m the one who closed it to begin with.”

“Boss...” Gueira says, frowning. “You’re not seriously thinking of going along with his plan... are you?”

“O—of course not!” says Lio immediately.

“Cool,” says Gueira. “It’s just, you seemed like you hadn’t made up your mind, the last time we talked about getting our powers back.”

“That’s... well...” Conflicted emotions roil within Lio’s gut. Intellectually, objectively, he knows it’s a terrible idea. But he can’t deny the thrill that passes through him as he recalls how it felt, having that flickering flame inside, to stoke it into a blaze and feast on the thrill of destruction. “The way I feel has nothing to do with it. For most Burnish, the Promare was a curse, not a gift.”

“Isn’t that just because Freeze Force was hunting us, though?” Meis points out. “I thought the goal of Mad Burnish was to build a society where all Burnish could live safe and free.”

“Times have changed,” Lio says. “The Promare are gone for good. We have to learn to live without them now. It’s better for everyone this way.”

“Sounds like a certain firefighter has been rubbing off on you,” observes Meis coolly.

“Yeah, hey, where is the big guy, anyway? You never said,” says Gueira.

The feeling of cold that Lio has been trying very hard to ignore creeps back in again until it has his chest locked in an icy grip. He stares at the blank tabletop and tries not to feel anything at all.

“... _Webrokeup_ ,” he mumbles all in a rush.

“Huh? I didn’t catch that, boss,”

“I _said_ —“ Lio’s voice cracks as he raises it above a whisper. “We broke up! I have no idea where he even _is_ right now!”

As soon as the words are out, Lio crumples in on himself, as though the admission took all the energy out of him. He slumps over himself, shoulders hunched, unable to meet Meis and Gueira’s eyes.

There’s a beat of silence, before Gueira says, “Wait, _seriously_?!”

Lio breathes in, lets out a shuddering exhale. “ _Yes,_ all right?”

“Whoa,” Gueira says. “That sure came outta nowhere. You guys seemed fine this morning.”

“Yeah,” agrees Meis. “I was so sure you two were endgame.”

“Yes, well. Things have changed,” Lio tells them.

“What _happened_ , Boss?”

Lio breathes out another shuddering sigh. “He— he wanted me to go back to Promepolis with him,” he says, and shakes his head. “But I can’t. Now that I know what Royce is planning— how he’s manipulated the Burnish here to worship him, is trying to bring back the Promare and building a personal _army—_ I can’t just leave Tartaros.”

Meis and Gueira each look at him.

“...Why not?” asks Meis.

“Why— I just told you why not!”

“Hmm, well, it seems to me...” Meis scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Royce’s plans hinge on you being here, so that you can help him reopen the portal. But if you weren’t here in Tartaros, then he’d have no chance of bringing back the Promare.”

Lio stares at him. “You think I should just... leave Royce to his own devices?! That man is delusional!”

“No,” says Gueira. “‘Course not. That’s why we’d stay here, to keep tabs on him.” He smiles a crooked smile. “Remember, you’re not in this alone, boss. We got your back.”

Lio stares into the middle distance as he processes this new information. Suddenly it clicks, and regret and remorse explode inside him like a bomb detonating. He tangles fingers in the hair on either side of his face, pulling at its roots.

Galo left. He said he was _in love with Lio_ , and then he left. And Lio had just... let him go.

“I’ve made a huge mistake,” Lio says.

“It’s not too late. He can’t have gone too far,” says Meis.

“Yeah. We’ll help you find him!” Gueira abruptly stands, and looks around the kitchen. “Hey, I just noticed... Harley’s not here, either.”

“Yeah, that’s weird, isn’t it? They almost never leave us alone, especially around dinner time,” remarks Meis. “Wonder if something’s up?”

“Focus,” Lio orders, and his men stand at attention. Lio gets to his feet, standing confidently and with more energy than he’d thought he had left in his body just a few minutes ago. “We’re getting our bikes, and then we’re going to canvass every inch of this valley until we find my idiot boyfriend.”

“Yes, Boss!” “Roger that.”

“Okay,” says Lio. “Mad Burnish... let’s roll.”

***

The roaring of Galo's motorcycle engine is almost, but not quite, loud enough to drown out the thunderous thoughts that rumble and crash inside his mind.

He flattens his body to the blue-and-white chassis and revs the accelerator. The bike flies forward, wheels chewing up the bumpy road beneath, wind whipping through his spiky hair. His helmet (and jacket, and what scant personal belongings he'd brought with him to Tartaros) are in a small travel bag slung over the sides of his bike. He probably forgot some stuff back at the house, in his rush to get out as quickly as possible. He can't bring himself to care.

In the past, whenever Galo felt overwhelmed like this, he'd always go for a long ride to mellow out his blazing soul. But now, he doesn't think any amount of distance he puts between himself and the Burnish city will soothe the ache inside his chest. There's something in there that feels like a fresh wound, still bleeding.

It's his own damn fault. He got reckless, as always; except this time, it wasn't with his body or his life but with his heart. Somehow, that makes it hurt more. But Galo Thymos is not the kind of man to be laid low by a single, measly _rejection_.

Except. It was _Lio_ who broke Galo's heart. Again.

Lio. The one person who, from the moment he entered Galo's life, managed to reorient his sense of direction like a new north star. Lio, whose fiery eyes and sharp tongue and brilliant mind and soft pink lips have so efficiently and effortlessly eviscerated every last ounce of Galo's self-restraint. Lio, who Galo _knows_ likes him too, who he's thought about and pined for since before he was consciously aware of doing that. Lio's the reason he left Promepolis. Lio's the reason there even _is_ a Promepolis to return to, at all. Or life on planet Earth, for that matter.

And the thing is. Galo can't even find it in himself to blame Lio, for choosing his duty to the Burnish over their relationship. Of _course_ Lio is devoted to his people— that's one of the things Galo admires most about him! Lio's devotion is the only thing in the world that can match Galo's burning soul in its intensity.

Galo just... he felt, for a short while there, that their blazing souls could burn even brighter together.

And now, Galo is alone again. His bike rumbles up over a mountain ridge while the hidden utopia of Tartaros disappears in the rear-view behind him. He’s got a long ride back to Promepolis, one that looks increasingly bleak as the sun sets behind the western mountain peaks. On their way there, they only made it across the Burned Zone with careful planning and Meis acting as their navigator. A rational person would think that trying to cross the desert, alone and without a map, would amount to a suicide mission.

But Galo’s determined, and he’s survived worse than a few days out in the desert. He’s _surviving_ worse right now, he thinks, as his heart feels like it’s splitting in two.

Besides, he thinks, glancing down at his bike. He still has that _one_ thing.

Before he can think to use it, though, Galo hears the distant rumble of another motorcycle engine echoing off the cliffside from the road behind him. He perks up. A crazy, wild thought surges inside him: _Lio?!_

Around the bend in the road, three figures on their motorcycles come screaming up behind Galo, kicking up towering plumes of dust from their rear-wheels. They’re too far away to be sure, but Galo eases up on the throttle anyway and lets them draw closer to him. He needs to confirm that the three riders really _are_ Lio, Meis and Gueira, come to find him and bring him back.

The other riders close in with a squeal of tires against the road surface. As soon as they get into range that Galo can make out identifying characteristics, that tiny spark of hope which momentarily flared to life inside his chest is snuffed out. These bikers aren’t Mad Burnish. They’re Royce’s black riders, being led by an unfortunately familiar figure. Galo would recognize that pointy-eared motorcycle helmet anywhere. _Harley._

Galo guns his throttle, but he’s already given up too much ground. The black riders close in, gaining on him as the road widens. In no time at all, they’re flanking him on both sides, while Harley is riding his tail. In a coordinated, pincer-like move, the bikes on either side suddenly zoom in front and pivot to block his path forward, forcing Galo to slam on his brakes in order to keep from crashing into them.

Their bikes all squeal to a stop in the middle of the road. Galo looks between his three pursuers, unable to keep the frustration inside him from boiling over.

“Hey! I’m having a _really_ bad day, all right?! And you guys aren’t making it any better!”

Harley steps down off their motorcycle and approaches Galo. “Lord Royce never gave you permission to leave Tartaros,” they say in their unusually soft voice.

“Yeah? Well, too bad. I know when I’m not wanted,” snaps Galo.

“I do not believe you understand,” they say. There’s a rustle and the creak of leather. From within Harley’s studded leather jacket, they produce a double-barrel shotgun, which they level at Galo. “We cannot let anyone who knows the location of Tartaros leave without Lord Royce’s approval. He has not granted that to you.”

“Wh-woah, easy with that thing...” Galo eyes the shotgun.

One of the other black riders pulls out a knife. “Don’t try anything stupid, Flameless,” he says in a raspy voice.

“Lord Royce will be notified of your attempted escape. _He_ will decide what to do with you,” Harley says. They gesture with their shotgun. “Now, up. Off your bike. You’re coming with us.”

Galo looks at Harley and the other two riders, at the bike between his legs, the knife and the shotgun. He considers his options, and his odds. Then he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, fine, just don’t shoot,” Galo says. “I’ll come quietly.”

“Heh. Guess you’re not as dumb as you look,” says the other black rider.

Galo glances at him. Then at the gun. Then at his bike. Then at the gun again.

“Actually, you know what? _Fuck_ this,” he says, and presses a button on the center console of his motorcycle.

Instantly, the bike lets out a VWFOOOOOM, and a thick spray of ice shot comes blasting out of the hidden cannons mounted on the front and rear of Galo’s motorcycle. The ice catches Harley and the two other black riders squarely in the chest, and immediately crystallizes into a solid wall, trapping the three assailants and locking them in place.

Galo approaches Harley. He grabs the barrel of the gun and wrenches it out of their grasp, shaking ice crystals off. Then, with a grunt of effort, he bends the metal of the barrel in on itself, before tossing the now-useless gun off the edge of the nearby cliff.

“You guys forgot something important,” Galo tells them nonchalantly. “I once beat Mad Burnish in a three-on-one fight. Plus, I’m the Hero of Promepolis. I know you guys think all non-Burnish are chumps, but hopefully this can be a learning experience.” He smiles then — for the first time since he rode out from Tartaros — and returns to the side of his bike.

This time, he lifts up a hidden panel, revealing a keypad and a receiver. He punches in a code and waits to hear static before speaking into it.

“This is Galo Thymos, calling all free agents of Burning Rescue on our emergency broadcast channel,” he says. “I... found something out here. Maybe something really dangerous. I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I’m gonna find out soon enough.” He looks over his shoulder, back to where Tartaros lies in its hidden valley. “I know it’ll probably take at least a few days for anyone to make it out here. But I’m sending over coordinates. So, uh, if anyone hears this and can lend a hand... that’d be pretty cool? Okay. Galo, out.”

He closes the receiver, ending the call. Then he places his hands on his hips and turns to face Tartaros. It’s nearly night, but the sky where the sun has recently set is stained red, and a spiraling dark cloud rests ominously atop the peak of the volcano.

Beneath his feet, the ground trembles again, then stills.

Galo contemplates the dark cloud, the brief quake. Then he looks at Harley, and their motorcycle.

The gears of his mind begin to turn, and Galo starts to formulate a Plan.


	12. Chapter 12

By the time Lio, Gueira and Meis return to the guest house from their search across Tartaros, it's well past midnight and Galo remains nowhere to be found.

His bike is missing, as are a few of his belongings from their house — though not everything, as evidenced by the blue toothbrush that remains beside Lio's own pink one on the sink. The evidence they can find suggests he left in a hurry. But none of the residents of Tartaros are able to offer any useful information about his whereabouts.

Finally, worn-out, exhausted, and demoralized, the three Mad Burnish return to their home after Lio can't manage to stay upright on his own bike anymore. Meis and Gueira carry him between them, and they all collapse onto a single bed without even bothering to remove any of their riding clothes. Lio feels ill and awful. Only the complete and utter exhaustion that seeps into his bones is what allows sleep to find him eventually.

***

_Lio dreams he's surrounded with burning light. It's a familiar feeling._

_All around him, cascading reactions combust into colors that defy human comprehension. He's at the center of a star, the burning core of a fusion reactor that's smashing atoms into each other and releasing impossible amounts of heat and light and energy._

_He's not alone. There are hundreds, thousands of others in there with him, tiny flickering points of light, which together create a cacophony of voices that speak in unison:_

_Burn. Burn higher. Burn brighter. Want more. Need to burn more._

_Lio would recognize that voice anywhere: the Promare. Which means this is their homeworld._

_Which means that Lio still has his connection to them._

_Which means Royce was right._

_He_ can _reopen the portal._

***

Galo doesn't exactly have a great track record when it comes to schemes. He's just not really a plans guy! And, okay, so the last time he tried to infiltrate a secret base to try and talk some sense into Kray Foresight, he ended up thrown in a prison cell and had to be freed by Lio. But that just means he's learned since then! And he has a sort-of plan now, which is infinity times better than having no plan at all.

He's lucky that Harley's roughly the same size as him, he thinks as he straddles the massive black motorbike that belongs to Royce's second-in-command. The cat-eared motorcycle helmet rattles on his head a bit, but it does its main job of hiding his identity. The heavy, studded black leather jacket is tight around Galo's shoulders and loose around his midsection, but otherwise fits him okay. At a distance, Galo thinks it's a more than passable disguise. As long as nobody expects him to open his mouth...

He'd left Harley and the other black riders disarmed and tied together by the side of the road, along with his own motorcycle. Given their remote location in the mountains, he thinks it'll be at least a few hours before anyone notices they're missing. Plenty of time for Galo to accomplish what he set out to do.

Which is... well, he's not sure, exactly. But it has something to do with the Temple of Flame. He isn't totally clear, but Lio mentioned Royce was planning something which he couldn't ignore any longer. And Galo just has a gut feeling that whatever secret Royce is keeping, the truth is hidden away inside of that building.

He likes having a mission. It means he doesn't really need to think about anything else.

The night is thick and dark by the time the heavy black bike rumbles to a stop just outside the Temple of Flame. Galo checks for any sentries posted outside, but he doesn’t see any at this time of night. All he sees are the ever-burning torches on the outside of the building, which feels to Galo like the watchful eyes of a demon.

Galo begins searching for a way in, the whole while trying to act nonchalant, like he knows what he’s doing. After around five minutes of searching around the building, he comes to a steel door set into the concrete exterior.

As soon as he approaches the steel door, an orange light blinks on above the door's frame, and a thin red laser beam passes over his body from his head to toe. He's afraid the scan will reveal him as an imposter immediately, but moments later the light blinks green and the door slides open.

Galo lets out a sigh of relief, and steps inside. He has never been more grateful for the fact that Harley never removes their helmet than he is at this very moment.

As soon as he's inside, he takes stock of his surroundings. He's standing in a blank white hallway, with artificial electric lights reflecting off shiny floor tiles. The place looks more like something he’d see in Promepolis than any of the hand-constructed homes in Tartaros. He takes note of the pipelines and sprinkler system set into the ceiling; state-of-the-art fire suppression tools. This place was built to be a fireproof stronghold. So why was it called the Temple of Flame?

Galo strides down the empty hallway, attempting to appear nonchalant. Nobody would ask questions if they saw Royce's second-in-command wandering through the inner sanctum, right? Meanwhile Galo is trying to figure out what the real purpose of this place is. It's strangely familiar, although he can't quite put his finger on why.

It's also warmer than the starkly lit, barren hallways would suggest. After he contemplates this for a minute, it clicks: this place is built into a volcano, duh.

Just as he thinks he’s getting a handle on this whole sneaking-around thing, he rounds a corner and immediately finds himself face-to-face with another person. It’s a woman, clad in the all-black uniform of Royce’s black riders, wearing her red dreadlocks up in a high ponytail and carrying what looks like a clipboard. 

“Who’s there— Oh, it’s you, Harley,” the woman says. “Where have you been?!”

Galo tries to quell the momentary panic inside him, and reminds himself that she can’t see his face inside of the helmet. In his best impression of Harley’s voice, he says, “Out.”

“Well, you’d better come quickly, then.” She shoots Galo-as-Harley a severe look from behind her half-moon glasses. She sort of reminds Galo of Dr. Heris Ardebit. “Royce won’t be happy if we have to delay things any longer.”

“Sorry,” Galo says. She shoots him a strange look, as if she wasn’t expecting Harley to apologize, so Galo clears his throat and says. “I mean. Yes. Won’t happen again.”

“...Right,” the woman says, only slightly less suspicious-sounding as she turns on her heel and continues leading them deeper into the facility.

It’s when she places her hand against a panel on the wall and the steel door slides open with a hiss, revealing a sleek, glass-walled elevator, that it finally clicks for Galo, what this place is, as impossible as it might seem.

Kray Foresight built this facility. Galo’s sure of it.

It all makes sense: the architecture. The fireproofing. The modern technology that’s totally at odds with the rest of Tartaros. Even this elevator is twin to the one Galo rode the first time he laid eyes on the Parnassus, back when he still thought Kray was a good man.

He follows the woman into the elevator. Its glass doors slide shut and it begins to move, gliding smoothly with only a quiet mechanical hum. They travel downwards at a diagonal angle, and the further they descend, the hotter the air seems to grow around them. Galo starts to sweat in his leather jacket and helmet; partially due to the heat, and the stifling clothes he can’t remove, and partially due to nerves.

Eventually, they emerge from the tunnel bored through black volcanic rock, and out into a massive subterranean cavern. Galo takes advantage of the opaque bike helmet hiding his features to gawp at his surroundings. Glowing hot lava pours in waterfalls —lavafalls?— out of crevices in the cavern walls and down, down, into a glowing basin that’s so deep Galo can scarcely see the bottom. High up, embedded into the ceiling of the cave, brilliant spotlights shine their bright beams downwards, towards an enclosed chamber perched on a rocky outcrop overlooking the chasm.

The elevator glides to a stop next to this chamber. The door slides open, and Galo and the woman step out into a small room that looks to be a laboratory. Computers and various science equipment fill the space, about the size of a classroom. Thick glass walls provide a view of the massive, lava-filled cavern outside. At the far end of the room, a particularly large machine sits at the border of the cliff’s edge.

There are other people in the room — also dressed in black — and they look up when the two of them enter the room.

“Ah! Mercedes, you’re back! And I see you brought Harley with you. Good. That’s good,” says the person who is standing beside the computer monitor. For all that they’re dressed in the same biker suit as the rest of Royce’s minions, they don’t look too tough, Galo thinks. “I take it this means we are ready to proceed with the next round of resonance tests?”

The woman — Mercedes — taps the toe of her boot impatiently. “Remind me what the results of the last five tests we ran were, again,” she tells him.

“That would be— umm, negative, ma’am,” the nerd stutters, beads of sweat appearing on his brow.

Mercedes’ frown deepens. “Tell me, Honda. Do _you_ want to be the one to report that to Royce? That we’re no closer to achieving resonance than when we started using this method?”

“W-well, that’s, um, no, not particularly,” stutters Honda. “But, perhaps with more tests — if we can get a more diverse sample size, then—“

“Get real!” snaps Mercedes. “You call yourself a Burnish? You should _know_ it’s never going to work like this. The Promare aren’t gonna resonate, no matter how many inert packets of Burnish DNA we throw into the core. It’s time to try a new approach.” With that, she turns to face Galo in his disguise. “Harley. Do we have your approval to move into phase two?”

Galo’s mind is still spinning so fast, he barely even registers being asked a question. _Did she just say Promare? Burnish DNA? The core?_ He wonders. Then he realizes they both are looking at him, awaiting an answer.

“Uhh, yeah, sure,” he tries. They both give him strange looks, and he realizes that he forgot to do Harley’s voice. He pretends to cough and clear his throat. “ _Ahem_. Proceed.”

Fortunately, they seem too distracted to investigate further. Mercedes nods and smiles coolly; Honda, however, still looks nervous as he approaches the machine in the back of the room.

It’s a large device, with a cylindrical central chamber and heavy hydraulics with coolant pipes on either side. There’s a computer readout beside the door.

Honda adjusts his glasses. “Um, in that case... bring out the first volunteer,” he says, a tremor in his voice.

From the far corner of the room, Mercedes pushes something with a squeaky wheel. Galo whips his head around to look, and as soon as he sees what it is, a chill passes through him despite the heat of the volcano. Atop the wheeled cart is a transparent cylinder made of metal and glass, around six feet long. And inside of the container is a person, unconscious but breathing.

Galo’s eyes widen as he recognizes her features. It’s Zara, the woman who greeted them on that first day they arrived in Tartaros. The woman with the four-year-old son she’d named after Lio.

What was she doing here, in the belly of the volcano?

Beside the machine in the back of the room, Honda presses a button and begins recording an audio log.

“Log number 137. This is Honda, primary technician on the Promare Reemergence Project. We are about to begin the first full-body resonance test. Our attempts at achieving resonance via Burnish DNA injection to the core have all produced negative results. Hypothesis: the presence of an active Burnish psyche, or ‘soul’ if you want to be unscientific, will greatly increase the probability of achieving resonance with the Promare across spacetime. Subject has volunteered to undergo this test in the hopes of rekindling her Promare. She will be sedated during passage and awakened upon reaching the core. Possible outcomes include: successful awakening of Burnish powers, failure to achieve resonance, death of the subject.”

Galo’s mind is spinning. They knew about the Promare?! And they were so desperate to reopen the portal that they were about to send this woman to... _to_...

“Wait!” Galo shouts as they wheel Zara up next to the big machine. Mercedes pauses in what she’s doing, sets the cylinder down and turns to face him.

“Is something wrong, Harley?”

“She— She has a son!”

Marcedes places her hands on her hips. “I fail to see the issue.”

“Well— what if it fails, like that guy said?” Galo points over at Honda. “If she doesn’t resonate with the Promare. Then she’ll die, won’t she?”

“It’s... certainly a possibility,” says Honda, adjusting his glasses. “The pod is insulated, but even then, the temperatures at the planet’s core are so high that a human without a Promare who stays there for any amount of time is likely to suffer severe consequences.”

“...Right! What he said,” Galo says, gesturing at the nerd. “How is any of this okay?! You’ll be leaving a child without his mother!”

“She volunteered,” Mercedes replies stiffly. “And not to worry. Tartaros will raise the child. Should she die, she will have given the ultimate sacrifice in service of the Eternal Flame. She will be honored.”

Seething reds and pinks cover Galo’s vision, preventing him from seeing straight. “No,” he rumbles. “I’m not letting any more kids grow up orphans. Not if I can help it.”

Mercedes frowns, fixing him with that suspicious look again. “Harley,” she says. “You were the one who brought her in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” Galo says. His body moves without thinking, and he crosses the lab in a few wide strides until he’s up next to the machine, and the capsule with Zara inside. Honda looks at him in bewildered panic, but Galo ignores him as he seizes onto the emergency release valve on the capsule.

The glass door cracks open with a hiss, and greenish vapor curls out, revealing Zara, still breathing. Galo reaches in and lifts her out of the capsule. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Then he turns his attention to the large machine at the edge of the lab; the Core Injector. With a grunt of effort, holding the unconscious Zara in one arm, he brings a gloved hand up and smashes it down on the digital console. The screen cracks and shuts off, scattering electric sparks as Honda gives a dismayed yelp. Then, he turns to the machine itself. He grabs hold of a pipe, which he realizes as he touches it is freezing cold, cold enough that he feels it even through his leather gloves as ice crystals spread across the palm of his hand.

He twists with all his might until he hears the groaning and tearing of metal, and then he pries the pipe off the rest of the machine. Immediately a freezing mist spills out from the broken pipe, rapidly spreading across the adjacent machinery. Galo continues tearing blindly into the machine, using the torn-off pipe to bludgeon it as sparks fly out of the electronics. The lava, ice and tears blur his vision until he can’t see straight—

Then he feels a sharp pain stab itself into his lower back, followed by an unnatural freezing numbness.

He looks down at himself and sees a solid clump of ice shot crystallizing around his waist.

Instinctively, he shields Zara’s unconscious form with his own body, as two more icy bullets hit his back and his knees. The ice spreads rapidly— he knows this stuff, it was developed by Freeze Force as a non-lethal tool to douse Burnish flames and take them in alive. Where it touches his skin, it’s so cold it burns. But Galo doesn’t care at this point. They can take him, if they want. The only thing that matters is making sure that child still has a mother tomorrow.

Footsteps echo from behind, as Mercedes walks into his field of view. She’s brandishing an ice pistol, has it leveled at Galo. This close, he can see the Foresight Foundation logo etched into its barrel.

She’s glaring at him, narrowed eyes radiating undisguised hatred.

“You’re not Harley,” she says.

Galo barely has time to respond before she grabs his helmet and wrenches it off his head. As the cat-eared motorcycle helmet clatters to the ground, he hears Honda give a gasp of surprise.

Shock flashes across Mercedes’ face, too. “It’s you,” she says. “The Flameless one.”

Now that his cover’s blown, Galo might as well stop pretending. “The name’s Galo Thymos! Don’t you forget it!”

Mercedes presses the barrel of the ice gun up against the tip of his nose. “What did you do with Harley?”

“Harley’s fine. They’re a little tied up at the moment,” Galo says. “Doesn’t matter, though. I know what you’re doing here now. I dunno how you guys found out about the Promare, but you’ll never reopen that portal! I closed it once, and I’ll keep it closed! No matter what it takes!”

“You... were the one to sever our connection to the Promare?” asks Honda’s shaky voice.

“Hell yeah, I did! Me and Lio, together! We set the whole world on fire to do it, too!” Despite the hopeless situation he knows he’s in, Galo grins. “So y’see, you guys don’t scare me. I’ve got a blazing firefighter’s soul! And nobody — not Royce, or Kray Foresight, or Lio — is gonna put me out!”

“Hmm,” Mercedes says. “If you say so.”

Then she shoots Galo point-blank in the face.

***

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

The repeated dull sound rouses Lio out of his troubled sleep. He cracks one eyelid open, and the moment the daylight fills his view, his headache returns in full force.

He gives an involuntary groan at the pain and tries to sit up. When he does, he finds his arms on either side pinned beneath the sleeping bodies of Meis and Gueira. The three of them are sprawled across the bed where they’d collapsed, still clothed in all their riding gear, after spending hours searching fruitlessly for Galo well into the night. Now, Lio figures it must be around midday. Despite sleeping in, he feels no less exhausted than before he fell asleep.

The loud thumping noise repeats itself in the distance: _thud, thud, thud._ It sounds like somebody is pounding at their front door.

In a momentary rush of adrenaline, Lio is suddenly wide awake, sitting bolt upright with a wordless shout and sending Gueira tumbling off the side of the bed. _Freeze Force!_ he thinks. They must have discovered their hideout again somehow. They had only moments to flee, or else find themselves encased in ice cuffs and hauled off to a frozen oubliette...

“Hey, Boss, what gives?! Was tryna get some shut-eye over here...” grumbles Gueira from where he’s landed on the floor, and the sound of his voice shakes Lio out of his panic. The fear drains out of him as Lio remembers, oh, that’s right. Freeze Force was disbanded. Nobody is coming to round them up anymore; the Burnish are free.

“...Sorry,” Lio says, staring down at his white-knuckled fists and forcing them to relax their grip. “...I thought... never mind.”

On Lio’s other side, Meis wakes up, stretching himself out like a big cat. He looks to Lio, brushing long strands of purple hair from his face, then over at Gueira on the floor. “What’s that sound?” He asks with a yawn.

Now fully awake, Lio slides off the foot of the bed and onto his feet on the floor. "I'll check it out," he tells Meis and Gueira. "No need to trouble yourselves. Get some rest."

"'Kay," mutters Gueira, as he groggily climbs back on the bed and slips under the covers beside Meis.

Lio leaves them be and strides out into the hallway, closing the door behind himself. His leather clothes feel uncomfortably stiff and itchy, having not been changed since last night’s midnight ride. Lio doesn’t even want to know what his hair looks like right now. He experiences a momentary yearning for a bath in the hot spring; but just thinking about that place brings up recent memories of him and Galo, now tinged with hurt. He silences that line of thought and refocuses on the matter at hand.

Whoever is pounding at their front door shows no sign of relenting. The large, heavy door shudders against its deadbolt as though repeatedly struck with a very small battering ram. Lio stands a safe distance away from it and contemplates the right move. They haven’t had any reason to feel threatened here in Tartaros — but that was before Royce revealed the truth of his ambitions to Lio, his plans to rekindle the Promare. It’s possible that he made some very powerful enemies yesterday. In which case, Lio would be wise to be ready for anything, even an attack.

...But. A reckless hope rises, unbidden, in his chest. It could be _Galo_ on the other side, come home to Lio of his own accord. That hope seizes control of Lio’s body, for just a moment, enough time for him to lift the bolt and open the door.

As soon as the door swings wide, the hope inside of Lio fizzles.

In place of Galo, standing on the other side is a person whose face Lio does not recognize. They tower massively, with thick shoulders and a barrel chest. Their face is framed on all sides with unkempt auburn hair that sticks out in all directions like the mane of a mangy lion. Most distinctively, a violent scar covers more than half their face, three pale and ragged slashes like claw marks that stretch across their forehead, over one eye and down the side of their upper lip, splitting it in two. The eye with the scar is permanently closed; the other, blackened with a fresh-bloomed bruise, glints yellow and rage-filled out at Lio.

With such a distinctive face, Lio is sure he would remember seeing this person before. And yet, there’s something undeniably familiar about them, their size and shape and looming presence. Suddenly it clicks—

“ _Harley?!_ ” Lio exclaims, in shock.

Harley grunts in affirmation and continues to glower down at Lio.

“What happened to you?!” Lio has never seen Harley go without their cat-eared helmet and spiked biker jacket; without those, their personality seems shifted into something different. Gone was the polite, soft-spoken giant; the Harley before him now seemed far more feral and dangerous.

With a snarling grimace, Harley says, “Your _Flameless_ did this _._ ”

A jolt of energy passes through Lio. “Galo,” he gasps. “You saw him?!”

“He has been captured and is currently in holding at the Temple, awaiting justice.”

“What— why? What has he done?” Lio struggles to maintain his composure.

“He has committed acts of high treason against Tartaros,” Harley tells him. “For such high crimes, the penalty can only be death.”

“No!!” Lio surges forward. “You can’t do that— take me to Royce! Let me speak to him!”

Harley shakes their head, mangy hair flying. “Your consort sealed his own fate the moment he attacked me and defiled our sacred temple. The Law of the Flame is absolute.”

“That’s total bullshit! You don’t— you can’t just— I won’t let you take him from me!”

“You are mistaken, Master Lio,” Harley says. “For bringing the Flameless into our midst, you will have to answer for his crimes, as well.”

Harley makes a clicking sound with their tongue against their teeth. Sirens blare in Lio’s head, and he has just a moment to react as two more men leap out from the shadows and make a dive for Lio, armed with handcuffs and a heavy club. Lio curses himself for not checking his surroundings. If he still had his fire, he’d be untouchable; but as things are, Lio is merely quick and thoroughly mortal. He dodges to one side, avoiding Harley’s grasp and the swing of the club. He tucks his chin and rolls over one shoulder, preparing to make a break for it down the valley—

Until he looks up and finds himself face-to-face with a fourth henchperson, a woman this time.

“Hiya, sweetie,” she says with a voice like syrup, as she jams a taser rod into Lio’s stomach.

Lio goes down like a sack of apples, his body convulsing with pain as his muscles all lock up in response to the electric current. From where he’s collapsed on the ground, Royce’s henchmen surround him, including Harley, who lifts Lio’s unresponsive body up off the ground like he’s a doll and pulls his arms behind his back, affixing the handcuffs to his wrists. As soon as the clasp is engaged, an awful, familiar chill spreads up Lio’s arms. _Freeze cuffs._ He’d cry out in pain if his jaw wasn’t locked shut.

Harley pulls out a black cloth sack. Lio has just enough time to take one gasping breath before the sack is thrown over his head, blocking out the sunlight, turning everything black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... can u tell the name theme i used for Royce and his minions, yet
> 
> also, updates might slow down a bit as i'm nearly through my written backlog. i have the rest outlined, though, so it's gonna get finished, come hell or high water, and that's a promise.
> 
> thanks as always for all your comments and feedback !! it waters my crops and warms my soul.  
> anyway, up next: more angst!


	13. Chapter 13

Someone pulls the black cloth sack off Lio's head, and he immediately breathes in a gasp of air, tasting smoke and sulfur.

He's on his knees in a darkened room. Overhead, a harsh light shines down on him, throwing his features into stark contrast. Besides the solitary light source, the utter blackness of his surroundings reveals very little; but the warm air and the smell of volcanic activity tells Lio that he is somewhere deep within the Temple of Flame. The freeze cuffs they put on him have his elbows twisted into a painful position behind his back. Past the ring of light, he can make out shadowy figures; the bright light reflecting off shiny motorcycle helmets.

Standing directly before Lio is a person in a red hooded robe embroidered with flame patterns, one hand wrapped around a long, metal staff. He steps into the light, lifting the hood from his head. It’s Royce.

Royce lets the black cloth blindfold drop from his hand, as he turns his gaze downwards to look at Lio, his face in chiaroscuro where it's backlit by the bright light. His expression as he gazes at Lio is not angry, or smug, but instead somber.

“Lio Fotia,” Royce says, shaking his head. “I really, truly expected better from you.”

Lio pulls at his wrists, which ache with cold as they are bound by freeze cuffs. “Royce, what the hell are you doing?! Let me go!”

Royce shakes his head, black hair flopping against his forehead. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that, Lio,” he says. “What a terrible disappointment. And after I showed you and your men all the hospitality Tartaros had to offer, too. Did all of that mean nothing to you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about—“

“I invited you in, you know,” Royce continues, talking over Lio. “I thought we shared the same dream, a paradise for all Burnish. Did you ever truly believe that, Lio?”

“Of course I believed that!” Lio retorts. “I still do!”

Royce shakes his head, disappointment mingled with contempt in his eyes. “When you seized control of Mad Burnish from me, was building a better world for the Burnish ever really your goal? Or did you just want more power?”

“Of course it was,” says Lio, taking a gasp of breath as he struggles against the biting numbness of his wrists. Despite the pain, he meets Royce’s gaze with a look of his own with matching intensity. "You've got it all wrong, Royce. The only one who's gone mad with power is you!"

"I _earned_ my power!" Royce roars. He points a thumb at his own chest. "I rose up out of the ashes of this burned world with a vision for a new future! I built it myself, brick by brick!" He gestures wide with his arms at the ring of faceless bikers that surrounds them. “Tell me, my brothers of the Flame. Do I speak the truth?”

“Yes, Lord Royce!”

“And have I ever misled you? Are any of you here that don’t want to be?”

“No, Lord Royce.”

Royce turns back to Lio again. “So you see, Lio. These Burnish and I all share the same dream. That is why they trust me as a leader.” Royce's furious glare turns into a smirk as he looks down at Lio. "But what would _you_ know about earning the right to lead? You spoiled child, who was _gifted_ the unquenchable fire of the Promare!”

"That's not... I..." Lio's words fail him.

"The only reason people followed you in the first place was because of your fire," says Royce. "You were born with it. You never had to learn what it meant to _fight_ for people's trust and respect. But I did."

“That’s not true... you’re lying! I _did_ earn their respect! And I did it without needlessly killing anyone, unlike _you_!”

“Oh, really.” Royce smirks. “If you’re such a great leader, then where are your men now?”

Lio casts his gaze to the darkened room that surrounds him. Their audience is entirely made up of black-clad riders, Royce’s henchmen. There’s not a friendly face in sight.

“You— quit changing the subject!” retorts Lio. “Why have you brought me here?!”

“Don’t play dumb, Lio Fotia, it doesn’t suit you.” Royce bends over, grabs the back of Lio’s head by his hair, and forces his gaze upwards so that they lock eyes. Lio snarls, eyes burning pink into Royce’s red ones.

“I don’t. Know anything,” he tells Royce through grit teeth.

“I trusted you with the truth, Lio,” Royce says. “I let you in on my vision for the future. And then, that very same night, you sent your Flameless partner to attack my men, infiltrate our temple and try to destroy our only hope at fulfilling the dreams of the Burnish."

"I didn't—" Lio's head is spinning. "I didn't tell Galo to do any of that!"

Royce shakes his head. "Really, Lio, your failure as a leader is matched only by your inability to lie."

“I’m not lying!” Lio growls. "Galo's his own man. I don't control everything he does."

"Hmph. Well, in that case, perhaps you should have controlled him better," says Royce. "Because trying to interfere with us will be the last mistake he ever makes."

Cold fear pierces through Lio. He doesn't know what might have happened to Galo under Royce's custody, if he's been harmed, or if he even still lives. "Where is he? What have you done to him?!"

Royce laughs, cruel and cold. “He’s still alive... for now,” Royce says.

“What does _that_ mean?!”

“Well... doing what he did, betraying Tartaros... in our society, it’s the highest crime anyone can commit. The fitting punishment can only be death,” says Royce. “Normally, if he were any ordinary Flameless, I would have already dispensed justice myself.” Royce drags a thumb across his own neck.

“No...!”

“ _But_ ,” continues Royce, “Just recently, I learned something very interesting.” He takes a step closer to Lio, seizes him by the chin and forces his gaze upwards. “The day of the Great World Blaze, you weren’t alone, were you? Galo was there with you. _He_ helped you extinguish our fire.”

Rather than respond with words, Lio jerks his chin out of Royce’s grasp and snaps his teeth as he tries to bite the other man. Royce jerks his hand away, laughing cruelly at Lio’s expense.

Lio looks away from Royce, down at the stone floor. “...So what if we did?”

“Then his crimes are bigger than betraying Tartaros. He's responsible for erasing us from the world,” says Royce. “Kray Foresight might have slaughtered our kind, but Galo Thymos is the true destroyer of the Burnish.”

“You’re wrong!” Lio shouts back. “We _saved_ the Burnish! And everyone else on Earth too, for that matter! What we did set our people free!”

“Are you sure about that, Lio?” Royce asks. “Take away our flames, and can you even call what remains a Burnish anymore? Look at yourself,” he says, and bats a hand towards Lio, bound and on his knees. “Time was, those freeze cuffs could never bind a Burnish as strong as you. What are you, without the Promare’s light? A hollowed-out husk of your former self.”

“I’m...” the icy cold grip of the freeze cuffs feels as though it penetrates deep within Lio’s bones.

What if Royce was right? What if he’d left the better part of himself on the other side of that portal?

Seeing Lio’s helplessness, Royce grins. “Nothing to say, oh great leader?”

“Just, what the Hell are you planning to do to him?!”

“For his crimes against the Burnish, the only way he can atone for them is by undoing what he did one year ago,” says Royce. “He damaged our Core Injector in his mad rampage. But, soon it will be back online. And when it is, we’re sending him to the planet’s core.” He grins wickedly.

“You can’t—!!“

“Oh, but I can. Maybe, since he once touched the Promare, even a Flameless like him can achieve Resonance... or maybe not. Either way, he'll have paid his price."

Lio breathes in a shuddering breath, as the feelings of despair claw in at him from all sides. It feels like the last time the world nearly ended: Lio, helpless and pinned by ice, watching desperately as his last burning ember of hope desperately flickers and starts to fade away.

In the middle of that desperation, without the Promare to lend him their power, their anger, Lio reaches desperately for the only thing he can think of that might save Galo.

“...Wait, Royce,” Lio says. He forces himself to look up at the man. “I... want to bargain.”

Royce scoffs. “Bargain? What could you possibly offer me?" He gets down on one knee, puts his smug face right up against Lio's. "In case you forgot, you’re powerless here. I own this whole goddamn city. _You_ haven’t even got Mad Burnish on your side anymore.”

“I know that,” says Lio. “But I have something else you want." He breathes in deeply, exhales, and he swears he can see mist form in his breath. He looks up through his bangs at Royce, pink eyes burning.

"I can bring back the Promare.”

It has the desired effect; Royce’s eyes widen.

“Oh _really,_ Lio?”

“It’s true." Lio says. He continues fixing Royce with that intense stare. "Last night, in my dreams, I felt their presence. I'd know that feeling anywhere." He winces at the pain in his freezing hands as he grits out his words. "If I agree to... help you. Rekindle the Promare. Will you promise to spare Galo’s life?”

Royce is silent for a moment. He leans back, bracing himself with the metal staff he carries, and studies Lio's face, searching for any hint of deception. Lio stares back, resolute. 

Finally, Royce smiles. "So you _can_ listen to reason, Lio Fotia."

On the metal staff he carries, he presses a button with his thumb. Immediately the freeze cuffs on Lio's hands disengage, falling off his hands and down to the ground with a clank.

Lio gingerly brings his newly freed hands up to his face. They're pale purple with frostbite, aching in the warm air, and he can barely move his fingers. He exhales onto them, and his fingers curl slowly as blood flows back into them.

Royce has extended his own hand towards Lio, palm open. "If you'll give me your word as a Burnish, I'll do the same. Help me, and I promise your fireman's life will be spared."

Lio has a feeling that he may be making the biggest mistake of his life; but, if it's for the sake of saving Galo, then he'll gladly charge straight in.

He takes Royce's hand. Against Lio's icy cold palm, Royce's skin feels searing hot.

Mere moments after they shake hands, Lio jerks away, clutching his hand against his chest again.

Meanwhile, Royce has turned his back on Lio to address the gathered congregation. "There's been a change of plans," he says, voice full of his typical swagger. "Lio Fotia has rejoined our cause. With him as our guiding star, we shall stoke the Eternal Flame to burn through us all once more!"

"Hoorah!" exclaim the gathered cloud of black riders.

Lio feels sick. He has a sinking suspicion that this was all going according to Royce's plan; that pushing Lio to the brink of desperation, with Galo as leverage, was all in order to manipulate Lio into doing what Royce wanted.

Right now, though, he only cares about one thing.

"I gave you my word," Lio says to Royce. "Now take me to him."

Royce grins wolfishly. "Certainly... partner," he says. He snaps again and, one by one, his henchmen all produce torches, which kindle ablaze of their own accord. The end of Royce's own metal staff flares to life. "This way," he says, gesturing for Lio to follow him down the dark hallway.

Lio follows, clutching cold hands to his chest and nervously eyeing Royce's torch-wielding sentries; around fifteen in all. They seem to not have any trouble seeing in the dark through those pitch-black, shiny helmets. One by one, they peel off from the group and stand guard in the hallway as Royce leads him deeper down the shadowy hallways, deep into the Temple of Flame.

Eventually they reach a door whose structure and composition Lio is painfully familiar with. It's made of thick steel and looks like a bank safe, with a quadruple-bolt lock and fire-suppression machinery on all sides of the exterior. It's a Foresight Foundation Burnish prison cell.

Standing by its side, Lio is not surprised to see Harley standing there, holding the keys in their large, meaty hand. They've had their cat helmet returned to them, only the glass on one side is cracked, revealing a piercing amber eye within.

Royce mutters a low command to them, and Harley nods, placing their key in the lock.

The cell door grinds open with a hydraulic _hiss_ and raises up, revealing an interior dimly lit in low blue.

On the opposite wall of the room, hanging helplessly with his arms and legs stretched out in an X formation, is Galo. He's unresponsive to the sound of the door opening, his head hanging limp. Ice crystals encrust his arms and legs, and there are much larger chunks of ice wrapped around his hip and in the spikes of his hair. He's not wearing a shirt, and the room is nearly freezing.

Lio gasps Galo's name and runs to him inside the cell. He runs his hands over Galo's exposed skin, trying to feel for warmth; but his fingers are still numb from the freeze cuffs. Instead, he wraps his arms around Galo's chest, and presses his ear up against it, just above and to the left of center. It's Lio's favorite spot to rest when they're lying together in bed, hearing Galo's vigorous heartbeat: _tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump_.

Now, he does so desperately, listening with every last burning fragment of hope for anything, any sound, any answering warmth at all.

_Thump._

_There!_ Lio clings even tighter, pressing his body even closer against him, trying to share what little warmth they have left together. Galo hangs there, helpless, his only lingering sign of life a feeble heartbeat.

Lio turns his head to look back towards Royce. "Let him go!!" he gasps.

Without warning, the locks around Galo's wrists and ankles disengage, and he collapses off the wall and onto Lio. He grunts and stumbles under the sudden weight — Galo is basically made of solid muscle. Lio is stronger than his thin frame suggests, though, and once he adjusts his footing, he finds he's capable of holding up his unconscious boyfriend with less trouble than before.

"Galo, I'm here, I'm here," Lio says, pressing his face into the crook of Galo's neck. "C'mon, say something, anything, I need to hear you."

A soft brush of something tickles the short hairs in the back of Lio's neck, which sends a shiver down his spine. It happens again, and Lio realizes that it's Galo's breathing. He holds him like that for a length of time measured by the shallow breaths and slow beating of his heart.

After what feels like an eternity in the space between breaths, Galo draws in a longer, deeper breath, and on the exhale, moves his freezing lips:

"Li...o...?"

Relief and joy floods into Lio like warm sunlight. "I've got you," he tells Galo, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. "You're okay, you're okay."

But then Galo's breath slides out of him again, his lips barely forming the word, "Star...light..." before his body goes completely limp.

Lio grips onto him as tightly as possible. His body is so cold. He looks back towards the open cell door, desperation shining in his eyes.

"Help! He needs to warm up, or he'll die!" Lio feels the cold skin beneath, so different from Galo's usual hot-blooded nature.

Royce, leaning against the door to the cell, makes no motion to assist Lio. "Oh, that's a shame," he says, sounding thoroughly indifferent.

Lio glares up at him. "This is _your_ fault! These cuffs were designed to hold _Burnish_! If you put a normal person in them, eventually they'll freeze to death!"

Royce shrugs. "I figured he could take it, since he's such a tough guy and all."

Lio clings to Galo, feeling desperately for the slowly fading warmth in his chest. He looks over his shoulder towards Royce, rage boiling in his veins. "You— how could you?!"

"S' too bad you're not Burnish anymore," drawls Royce. "A little bit of your fire would for sure warm him right up."

At Royce's words, there's an echoing murmur in the back of Lio's head:

_Warm..._

"...So, what are you waiting for, Lio?" Royce says, and now he approaches Lio where he's struggling to hold Galo, and offers his hand. "Let's go start a fire."

At Royce's words, there's a rumble. At first, Lio thinks it's another tremor from the volcano. But then the rumble grows louder, and is punctuated by a shout, a thud, and a crash. More sounds of chaos grow louder and closer by the moment, until Lio realizes that the rumbling he thought was an earthquake wasn't actually a quake at all.

It's a motorcycle _._ _Two_ motorcycles, actually.

Around the corner at the far end of the hallway comes blazing two familiar faces: Gueira and Meis, astride their bikes, high-beams cutting through the darkness. They're brandishing weapons that must have been taken from Royce's henchmen. Meis carries a long, narrow metal rod, which he uses to thwack one of Royce's men in the knees and pivot his bike around a tight corner. He's followed closely behind by Gueira, who carries a big, heavy chain in one hand that he's dragging behind his bike, kicking up sparks on the metal floor. He lugs the heavy bolt at the end of his chain, flinging it forward to clock another guard in his helmet with a loud _CRACK!_

The guards dispatched, the two look up into the cell entrance, and see Harley, Royce, Lio, and Galo.

"Boss!" shouts Gueira. "We're comin' for ya!"

Harley steps out into the middle of the hallway, positioning themself to block Gueira and Meis' advance. They rapidly draw a pistol from its holster behind their back. Harley fires off a volley of three shots, but Meis and Gueira swerve their bikes around each other, dodging out of the way of the projectiles. The missed shots crystallize into ice where they strike the floor. Harley roars in frustration, tossing their gun aside and instead withdrawing a sharp dagger from their belt loop.

Lio expects Gueira to slow down as he barrels his bike towards Harley, but he doesn't ease up on the throttle; it seems Harley didn't expect that, either, and moments later the two crash together. Harley goes flying across the room, their back colliding with the far wall.

Royce snarls. " _Idiots!_ " he yells, and slams his hand down against a panel on the wall.

With a hiss and a clank, the hydraulic door to the cell where Lio and Galo are being held starts to engage. The heavy steel door slowly begins sliding downward.

"Nuh-uh, I don't think so," says Meis, riding up on his bike. He takes his metal spear and jams it into the door-opening mechanism. Sparks fly, and the door stalls its descent, leaving a 2-foot-high gap above the ground.

From the thin sliver of flickering light below the door, Lio can barely tell what's going on. He hears the shouts and more scuffling. The _clang_ of steel against steel as Royce and Meis fight using their metal rods, defiant shouts and the loud _crak_ of metal hitting flesh.

Then there's a _clank_ and the rattle of chains, and finally a loud _thump_ as somebody's body hits the floor.

Moments later, Meis' head appears in the gap below the door.

"Boss! You okay?"

"I'm— fine, but," Lio says, and hoists Galo's weight against him, "Galo, he's hurt—"

"Sorry we took so long. We're gonna get both of you outta here, quick," promises Meis. He reaches his arms out; Lio carries Galo's unresponsive body over and allows Meis to help drag him out of the cell.

When Lio himself emerges from the cell, he sees Gueira tugging the links of his chain tight around the torsos of both Royce and Harley, who have been bound back-to-back, arms lashed to their sides.

"Not so tough now that we took out all your minions, huh?" Gueira taunts, as he latches the chain onto itself. "Makin' everyone fight for you this whole time, you got soft, Royce."

Royce snarls and spits at Gueira's feet. "Traitors! All of you! You're a disgrace to the Burnish!"

"Nah. That was you, when you thought it'd be a good idea to kidnap our Boss and hurt Galo," says Gueira. "We Mad Burnish protect our own."

Now Royce looks up towards Lio. For the first time since they met, the swagger is gone from his eyes. "Lio," he says, his voice hoarse. "We had a deal. You swore on your honor as a Burnish that you’d help."

"I'm not Burnish anymore," Lio says. "And for that matter, neither are you. You tried to manipulate me, kidnapping and torturing my boyfriend in order to pressure me over to your side. Any deal we made was based on false pretense." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "The Promare are gone, Royce, and we're all better off for it. It's time you accepted that."

"You— insolent little— you'll pay for this!"

Gueira has positioned Galo's limp body over the engine block of his own motorcycle. Lio straddles the back of Meis' bike, and casts a disparaging look back. "Give up, Royce," he says. "You already have something great here in Tartaros. Just be a leader for your people. That's all they need." He accepts the helmet Meis hands him and pulls it over his head as the engine of the hog flares to life.

"Just you wait," snarls Royce. "I don't need your help. I'll rekindle the Promare by myself, if I have to!"

Lio ignores him, instead signaling to Meis that they should leave. The two bikes rumble away down the hallways of the Temple of Flame, past the crumpled and groaning bodies of black riders beaten up by Meis and Gueira, and out towards the narrow gap in the front door where daylight spills into the darkened building.

The two bikes roar over the temple steps and down onto the gravel trail, which snakes upwards into the mountain pass. Lio doesn't need to give Meis and Gueira directions; they all know they need to get out of Tartaros as quickly as possible, before the black riders have a chance to run them down.

The four of them ride up into the rugged mountains. Over their heads, swirling grey clouds flash intermittently with bursts of lightning, seeming to gather over the ominously rumbling peak of Mt. Hades. 

Lio continually finds himself casting frantic glances over towards where Galo is slumped, unconscious, on Gueira's motorbike. Worry grips inside him. He'd felt how cold Galo's body was, how feeble his heartbeat.

What if Royce was right? What if rekindling the Promare had been the only way to save Galo's life?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back from that brief interlude with more plot! Enjoy.
> 
> (sidenote: chapters have been re-ordered to their proper chronological order.)

Two motorcycles stand parked outside the jagged mouth of a cave made of black rock, shiny chrome gleaming in the setting sun. From within the dark interior of the cave, a dim flickering firelight reveals the location where Mad Burnish have hidden themselves away after their brazen escape from Royce's cult.

Lio expected Royce’s henchmen to chase them down as soon as they left the Temple of Flame. But, as he clung against Meis on the back of his motorcycle, keeping his eyes trained on the disappearing road behind them, no black riders appeared to follow. Lio can’t imagine a scenario where they completely lost their pursuers, so the only explanation that remains is that Royce let them go on purpose. That thought doesn’t sit quietly inside him. Even though Tartaros is many miles in their rear-view now, he can’t shake the haunted feeling that Royce hasn’t given up on seeking revenge.

Now, they’re in a situation that feels all too familiar: on the run, camping out in a cave, holding on to what little hope they have. Lio bitterly recalls that time they’d managed to free all those Burnish from the Foresight Foundation prison, setting up camp beside an icy lake. He’d thought he covered up his tracks well enough, before a certain idiot firefighter barged in.

Now, that same idiot lies with his head cradled in Lio’s lap. The breath that wheezes through Galo’s lungs is too slow, too erratic. They’ve wrapped him up in rags and whatever scraps of fabric they could find, and his body is positioned beside the fire to try and absorb some of his heat. His skin is chill under Lio’s touch, with only a meagre hint of the warmth that typically blazes within him.

On the opposite side of the fire sit Meis and Gueira, trading bites of the last cured jerky they had stashed inside their supply bags. Despite their successful escape, the mood in the cave is somber. It’s quiet, save for the occasional low rumble from the volcanic activity beneath their feet.

After a long silence with only the crackling of the fire, Meis speaks.

“Sorry we didn’t come for you sooner, boss.”

“It’s fine,” says Lio automatically. “You came when I needed you. That’s what matters.”

“Soon as we noticed you were missing, we figured they probably took you to the Flame Temple,” says Gueira. “They tried to take our bikes, to keep us from going to you... but you trained us too good for them to stand any chance.” He grins, and cracks his knuckles.

Meis takes a bite of the tough jerky. He tilts his head towards the unconscious Galo. “Did they say why they took Galo prisoner?”

“I’m still not completely sure... I don’t know how much of what Royce said we can trust,” says Lio. “He told me that Galo tried to break in and sabotage their Promare experiment.”

“Typical Galo,” says Gueira.

Lio doesn’t reply, but smooths a hand through Galo’s spiky blue hair. The ice chunks that were gathered on his body have long since melted, but Lio can still see their remnants in angry purple frostbite bruises. It’s warm enough in the cave with the fire, but he swears he can see Galo’s breath form a mist on the exhale.

Then, as Lio watches, Galo’s chest falls with his last breath and doesn’t rise again.

Freezing hot panic pierces through Lio like a stab wound. He lightly slaps the side of Galo’s face and holds the back of his hand against Galo’s mouth, feeling for an exhale.

His generals notice Lio’s distress. “What’s wrong, boss?”

“He’s not breathing.” Lio feels the panic crystallize inside of him. No, no, this can’t be happening — he’d rescued Galo from that freezing prison cell, he should be okay, so _why_ —

His fingers frantically pull away the cloth that’s covering Galo’s torso so that Lio can press his ear against his bare chest, listening desperately for the slightest hint of that beating, burning heart.

Nothing answers back. If there is still a heartbeat, it’s too weak and feeble for even Lio to hear, ear pressed up against the wall of his chest in the stillness of the cave.

It’s too much, way too similar to last time, when Lio held Thyma as her inner light faded, as she crumbled to ash in his arms. As long as he still lives, Lio doesn’t want that ever to happen again.

 _You’d make a good EMT, Lio,_ Galo has said to him once. But the truth is that Lio hasn’t got a clue what it means to heal people without his fire. _Galo_ is the one who saves lives; he might have helped save Thyma, back then, if Lio had allowed him.

Now, Galo is the one that needs saving, and Lio feels powerless to do anything about it.

Acting on instinct, Lio grips Galo and tilts his head back, causing his mouth to drop open. He takes a deep breath and presses their lips together, forcing his own breath back into Galo’s lungs. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Galo’s broad chest rise, filling further with each desperate gasp Lio forces back into his lungs. Maybe this will work, Lio thinks.

But when he pulls back, the air escapes again in a quiet sigh, and the lungs don’t fill again.

Shuddering panic thuds inside Lio. His heart is hammering _thup-thup-thup_ like a helicopter as he smashes their lips together again, desperately trying for something, anything different. But it’s no use: without being Burnish, without his Promare, there is no light he can breathe back into Galo’s chest.

Frustrated and filled with growing despair, he pulls back and places his hands one over another atop where Galo’s heart rests still beneath the wall of his chest. Lio presses down, trying to keep a steady rhythm, to urge Galo’s heart into beating again.

“You blazing idiot! Don’t you _dare_ die on me!”

The wind howls outside the mouth of the cave. Meis and Gueira hover nearby, nervous but powerless to help. Hot, bitter tears well up in Lio's eyes, blurring his vision as Lio frantically alternates between breathing into Galo’s lungs and trying desperately to restart his heart.

 _Thud-thup-thup-thup-thup._ The rapid shuddering sound echoes in from outside. Suddenly, Lio realizes that sound is not his own heartbeat, after all.

Gueira and Meis run to the entrance of the cave, and their jaws drop open in disbelief as an _actual, literal_ helicopter touches down on the plateau just outside.

A human figure leaps down from the helicopter cockpit, heavy boots impacting the stony earth with a _crunch_. The sunset glints off his sunglasses and lights up the bright red of a firefighter’s jacket. A badge proudly displaying the Burning Rescue logo gleams on his chest.

It’s Ignis, the Burning Rescue Fire Chief. He points to Gueira and Meis.

"Where's Galo?!" he roars with a booming voice. 

They frantically gesture him into the cave as more people disembark from the helicopter. The woman with pink hair — Aina. A diminutive blonde in a white lab coat, who must be Lucia.

Aina sprints to the cave and gives a gasp of shock when she sees Galo.

"Oh my— _Galo!_ What happened?!"

Lio stares up at her through his tears, draws in a shaky breath.

"H-he's not breathing," Lio struggles to find words while he tries to keep Galo’s heart beating. "He has hypothermia — please, help — _anything_ —"

Ignis blows a sharp whistle on his fingers. "Galo's dying! We need that life kit, ASAP!"

Aina runs up and crouches by Galo's side, runs a hand alongside his still and unresponsive face. She looks up at Lio.

"You... what did you do?” Conflicting emotions of pain, sadness and confusion cross her face.

"...I couldn’t..." Lio grits out, fingers tightening in the scraps of fabric wrapped around Galo. Bitter tears run down the length of his nose and onto Galo's chest. "He saved my life, so I tried but I — I wasn’t able to —"

Two more Burning Rescue members enter the cave, carrying between them a high-tech medical stretcher.

"Galo can't die now!" declares Lucia. "If he does, who will pilot my mech?” She places her hands on petite hips and fixes Lio with a determined stare. “Just you watch. Burning Rescue'll save him!"

"She's right," Ignis rumbles, also approaching Galo's side. "He's _our_ rookie. Burning Rescue always looks after each other." He gives a stern nod. "You can trust us, Lio Fotia. We'll take it from here."

The other firefighters — men Lio only vaguely recognizes — take out a thermal blanket, using it to wrap up Galo's body before lifting him onto the stretcher. Immediately, the machine whirrs to life and a variety of screens and panels unfold out of the device, displaying details on body temperature and heart rate.

"His temperature is _eighty-eight_ degrees?!" gasps Aina.

"He still has a heartbeat," says Lucia. "Seems super irregular though."

"Remi, restart his heart," orders Ignis.

The teal-haired man approaches the side of the stretcher. He pulls out a pair of defibrillator pads which he rubs together on his hands before positioning them across Galo's chest. "Clear!" he shouts, and the machine sends a jolt of electricity through Galo. He repeats this process several more times, alternating between compressing his chest in repeated motions and administering shocks to his heart, until —

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._ The heart monitor on the machine shows a pulse once more. Remi swabs Galo's forearm, then carefully inserts an IV which begins delivering a warm liquid. Galo's chest rises with an inhale, and relief washes over Lio, like he just resurfaced from the bottom of a deep, icy pool.

_Galo’s alive._

Little by little, the body temperature indicator rises, a tenth of a degree at a time. Remi places an oxygen mask over Galo's face, and when he inhales there's a gentle _whoosh_ sound. With each breath he takes, and with every steady beat of the heart monitor, the tightly-wound coil inside Lio's chest loosens little by little, until enough space opens for him to breathe again.

Minutes pass in tense silence, before Ignis clears his throat.

"He's stable," the chief says. "He's going to survive. Good work, everyone."

A collective sigh of relief passes through the room. Gueira slumps against Meis. Lio, too, feels boneless and drained, and has to prop himself up on the corner of Galo's stretcher to stay standing upright.

Remi steps away from Galo's side, pressing a button on the machine as he does. An amber-colored translucent cover slides out from the machine and covers his body, shining a warm light over him. As soon as it slides closed with a hiss, the various members of Burning Rescue all turn at once to look at Lio, Meis, and Gueira.

“So.” Ignis crosses his arms. “Now that Galo’s stable. I think it’s time we had a talk.”

“Yeah, what happened to Galo?” pipes in Lucia.

Lio, uncomfortable being the focus of all their attention, bites his lip and looks down and away from the eager, searching looks of Burning Rescue.

“We might ask the same thing of you, ya know,” says Gueira in his familiar drawl. The sound of his voice is reassuring to Lio. “Not that we aren’t grateful for you savin’ Galo’s life. Just, where did y’all even come from?”

“Galo sent us a message on our emergency line, twenty-four hours ago,” says Aina. “He didn’t share many details, only that it was urgent, so I flew us here as quickly as I could.” She casts a nervous glance towards Galo on the stretcher. “It’s a good thing we got here when we did...”

 _Twenty-four hours ago..._ Lio mentally retraces through the exhausting past day. It’s right around sunset now, so one day ago must have been some time after their fight, when Galo had run off on his own. _What could he have seen that made him summon Burning Rescue all the way out here?_

Lio realizes he hasn’t got a clue about what Galo got up to that night, besides what Royce alluded to before. He figures he’ll have to ask Galo about it himself when he wakes up.

“Yeah, but how did you manage to find us here? We were kinda trying to lay low,” says Meis.

“Oh, I put a tracker inside Galo’s body,” says Lucia, nonchalant. When the others give her strange looks, she just shrugs. “Hey, he asked me to! Remember that time he went to see Kray Foresight, and none of us knew where he was for days after that? He told me he didn’t want that to happen again.” 

“Man, you firefighters are crazy...” Meis says with an incredulous chuckle.

“Hey, we’re not the ones who nearly got Galo killed,” Aina says, stubbornly placing her hands on her hips. “Now, will you quit avoiding the question already, and tell me what happened to him?!”

Gueira scratches his beard. “Well, we kiiiinda got messed up in a cult...”

“You’d better start from the beginning,” rumbles Ignis.

“...Okay,” Lio says, surprising even himself. He looks into the fire chief’s shiny glasses. “You people saved Galo’s life. An explanation is the least of what I owe you.”

With the members of Burning Rescue gathered around the fire, Lio begins recounting the events that led them here, beginning with his reunion with Galo several weeks prior. His low voice is underscored by the quiet beeping of Galo’s heart monitor, the soft sigh of his breathing, as a tumultuous evening fades into night.

***

_Galo's memories are... strange._

_He remembers the underground lab, the heat of the volcano. Remembers the freezing snap of ice, concussing him, knocking him into unconsciousness. He remembers a cold cell, the echo of harsh voices down a hallway, the slow sap of heat and life from his limbs. He remembers dreaming of Lio, of his fiery touch, his arms wrapped around Galo's waist, ear resting against his heart. Then, nothing at all._

_Now Galo drifts in a pool of warm, amber light._

_It’s... calm. He feels weightless, wrapped in the gentle embrace of someone unknown. He feels their love for him radiate through his body, warming him to his core._

_...His mother?..._

_(Galo hasn’t seen her since he was five years old. She used to squeeze him in her arms so tight, he felt like he was gonna pop.)_

_No, this can’t be her. Even in this mindless, weightless space he knows that. Besides, it doesn’t feel like her. It doesn’t smell like her._

_It smells like... breakfast. Like somebody’s frying bacon._

...Wait... bacon?!

That’s when Galo opens his eyes, and finds himself staring up at a field of yellow. He tries to sit up, only for his forehead to collide with a dull _crack_ against the plastic cover of his life support machine. He swears, and rubs at his forehead as the dome retracts with a mechanical hum, revealing his surroundings to him.

As soon as it does, there’s a flurry of activity on all sides.

“Galo?!” “Galo’s awake!” “Must’ve been your cooking that woke him up.”

Galo blinks, raising his sleeveless arm with burn scars exposed to shield his face from the bright morning light. He’s in a... cave? The rocky ceiling sure looks like it. And then a person’s face appears in the field of view, and Galo blinks more in disbelief.

“... _Aina_?” he asks, incredulous. Then he looks past her shoulder and sees more people he recognizes from Burning Rescue: Remi and Lucia playing cards with Meis and Gueira by the fireside, Varys cooking breakfast in a large frying pan over the embers, and Ignis standing in the corner with his arms crossed, his omnipresent sunglasses affixed to his face. “Lucia? Remi? Varys? _Chief?!_ What’re you guys all doing here?”

“Oh, good, you remember our names,” says Aina, deadpan. “That means you’re probably not brain-damaged."

"At least, not much _more_ brain-damaged than usual," quips Lucia, as she flattens her hand of cards on the stone floor and looks up at Remi, Meis and Gueira with a grin. "Four jacks."

"Ah, crap," responds Gueira, and Meis and Remi react similarly with groans. "I swear, you're using that rat to cheat at poker!"

"Vinny's just my good luck charm," Lucia says, smug as she collects all the spare change from the center of their circle. Atop her shoulder, Vinny squeaks victoriously.

Remi looks up over his shoulder towards Galo. "We saved your life, by the way."

A grin spreads across Galo's face. "Wow, really? Thanks, guys!"

"Anytime, rookie," mutters Ignis behind his moustache.

"C'mon, am I _still_ the rookie, even after all this?" Galo laughs. "I saved the world, you know!"

"We know," say several Burning Rescue members at once.

"Hey, Galo, you want breakfast?" asks Varys, using his spatula to flip the sizzling bacon in the pan.

"Yeah, but—" Galo casts his gaze around the room. "Before any of that. Where's..."

Aina seems to understand Galo's intention. Rather than answering with words, she points across Galo, to the other side of his stretcher.

Galo looks over and down, and sees the top of Lio's head, fluffy and mint green. He's seated with his back up against the side of Galo's life support machine, snoring gently.

"He refused to leave your side all night," Aina says.

A warm, fluttering spark glows inside of Galo's chest at the sight of him. He lets one arm drop lazily off the side of the stretcher, lightly tangling in the hairs atop Lio's head.

"...Hey, Lio," Galo says.

At his touch, Lio stirs. He tilts his head to look up in Galo's direction, eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Ga...lo...?"

"Hi, starlight," Galo says with a soft smile.

Lio's eyes snap open, and he scrambles to his feet. Naked relief shows on his face. He reaches out a hand to rest it on Galo's chest. His slender, pale wrist is ringed in purple frostbite marks, partner to Galo's own.

"You're awake," Lio says in disbelief. "For a while there I thought I'd lost you."

Galo gives a weak laugh. "You should know by now that I'm a lot harder to kill than that!"

"You literally _died_ , Galo. You weren't breathing, your heart wasn't beating and I just..." Lio's eyes show echoes of his pain and remorse. "...I'm so sorry. For everything. For shutting you out. For saying we're better off separate than together. I was wrong about it all."

"Already forgiven, starlight," Galo breathes, still smiling. "You saved me."

"That's... not true," says Lio. "I couldn't save your life... I can't do what you do. If Burning Rescue hadn't come when they did, then... I..." he hangs his head. "I'm sorry. I'm useless."

Galo frowns. "Lio, don't ever say that," he says sternly. "You aren't useless. You're like, the most amazing person I know. And anyway, even if Burning Rescue were the ones to save me this time, it wouldn't matter." His frown disappears, becoming a relaxed smile once again. "You _already_ saved me, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

Galo smiles wider. "D'you know why I call you starlight?"

Lio shakes his head, smiling a little as well. "Why do you do anything, Galo? I thought it was just a pet name."

"Well, yeah, but... there's a bit more to it than that.” Galo looks aside, wearing a strangely wistful expression on his face. "It was over a year ago, after we met in that cave and you showed me that everything I thought I knew about the Burnish was a lie. After that, I went to see Kray and tell him to stop doing those horrible human experiments. Anyway, long story short, he threw me in jail for probably over a week? Nobody knew where I was, and no one was coming to get me, the world was ending and I was all alone. I’d never felt so hopeless." He looks up at Lio again. "And then... you saved me."

"I... did?"

"Yeah. Although I'm not sure if you remember it that well 'cuz you were a dragon. You were on a rampage, and you broke open my jail cell. Tore a hole right through the roof. I looked up and I saw the stars, and you," Galo says. A smile grows on his face again. "You light up the sky for me, starlight.”

Lio gives an involuntary huff of laughter. "Let me get this straight... you're saying that I saved you _by accident_ when I was blind with rage and trying to kill Kray Foresight?"

"Well, sort of, but I don't think it was really an accident... it's like what that Doctor Computer said: it might as well have been just random. But the fact that it was _you_ means that it wasn't." Galo smiles up at him. "We're meant to be together, Lio! It's the only explanation."

"You absolute idiot," Lio says, and rests his forehead against Galo's chest as laughter silently quakes his shoulders.

"Yeah," Galo agrees, "but I'm your idiot."

Lio looks up at him, then, and tangles his hand in Galo's messy blue hair before crushing their lips together in plain sight of everyone. Galo makes a small, pleased noise in the back of his throat as he kisses Lio, cradling him in his arms like a warm ember, pulsing with light and with life.

There's a few surprised gasps and murmurs from Burning Rescue. Somebody (probably Lucia) gives a low wolf whistle. 

Eventually, there’s the sound of Ignis clearing his throat, and they reluctantly pull apart. Lio rests his forearms on Galo’s chest, looking down at him with unguarded affection. Galo looks over towards the other Burning Rescue members.

“Oh, yeah,” he explains. “Me and Lio are together now. Like, _together_ together.”

“Called it,” says Lucia, holding out an open hand towards Remi, who reluctantly hands over a wad of cash.

Ignis clears his throat again. “Congratulations, you two. Now, Galo, if you’re done...” he approaches Galo's bedside and hands him and Lio each a metal plate, stacked high with bacon and fire-blackened toast. "Eat up, both of you. You need the energy. And while you're at it, Galo, you can start explaining what exactly happened that almost got you killed."

"Sure thing, chief!"

They dig into their breakfasts, while Galo recounts his infiltration of the Temple of Flame and what he saw there. His teammates express impressed disbelief as he describes disabling Harley and disguising himself as them to get inside the temple. (Remi: "You? Managing to disguise yourself in a way that would fool _anyone_?") He describes how he figured out the building was constructed by the Foresight Foundation, and what he saw inside the laboratory at the heart of the volcano: that strange machine, the core injector, and what they were attempting to do in order to try and reawaken the Promare.

“—So then, I was like, ‘nobody else is gonna become an orphan if I have anything to say about it!”

Remi scoffs. “Pff. No way that was what you actually said.”

“Are you kidding? This is _Galo_ you’re talking about,” says Lucia. “Chances are, he said something even _more_ ridiculous five seconds later.”

“What happened next?” asks Aina.

“Well,” says Galo, “first I freed that woman they had trapped in the glass tube. Then I smashed up their machine thingy that they were gonna use to send her into the core. And that was about when they realized I wasn’t actually Harley, so they shot me with an ice gun.”

“That explains the frostbite marks...” Aina says, her brow furrowed. The exposed parts of Galo’s body are peppered with fading purple star-shaped marks, including a particularly big bruise across his temple from where he was shot point-blank.

Lio remains sprawled across Galo's chest as he recounts his story, not speaking but just listening intently, as though hanging onto Galo's every word. 

"...So yeah, that's about all I can remember. After that it all gets kind of... fuzzy," Galo says, and looks to Lio. "Lio, do you know what happened after that?"

Lio jumps at the sound of his name and looks aside. "It's not... that doesn't really matter," he says, uncharacteristically shy. "What matters is, you're safe now."

"Aw, c'mon boss, tell 'im what happened," Gueira says through his mouthful of bacon. "How you convinced Royce to spare his life an' all that."

"What? You really did that, Lio?"

"That's not all that important," Lio says, evasive. "Royce was just using you to get to me. I just... I said whatever I could think of that would get him to not kill you."

"So what was it? What did you say to Royce?"

Lio hesitates. Before he can answer Galo's question, there's a deep, low rumbling that emanates from the ground beneath their feet. Lucia’s stacked poker chips topple over and Varys’ cooking utensils clatter in the pan. The rumbling grows louder and the shaking grows more violent. Small rocks dislodge from the ceiling from the cave and scatter across the quivering floor.

In an instant, Burning Rescue springs to action.

“EARTHQUAKE!” shouts Ignis in his booming voice. “Everyone, out of the cave, _now_!”

More dust and rocks shake down from the ceiling, as one of the stalactites dislodges and shatters on the ground. Varys stands by the mouth of the cave, using his impressive bulk and superhuman strength to secure the opening in order for everyone to escape.

Lio’s attention snaps to Galo immediately. “Can you walk?”

“I... I’m not sure,” Galo admits. His legs feel sort of like jell-o.

“Here. I’ll carry you,” says Lio, sliding an arm around Galo’s shoulder and helping him down off the stretcher. As he places unsteady feet on the floor, he feels a second arm support his other shoulder. He looks over towards Aina, supporting him on his other side.

“No time to waste,” she says. “Let’s get out of here!”

His weight balanced between them, Galo manages to make it out the cave entrance just as a large chunk of rock dislodges from above where he was lying mere moments before, crushing the life support machine in a shower of sparks.

Once everybody is out the entrance of the cave, Varys lets out a grunt and releases the rock he had been holding up on his shoulders. With a _crrrack,_ the entrance collapses, effectively closing off the cave in a pile of rubble.

The shaking quickly subsides, the last few pebbles clattering to rest as Burning Rescue and Mad Burnish all catch their breath.

“Aww, man,” says Gueira as he looks back towards the collapsed cave entrance. “Our hideout...”

Remi curses. “That life support machine was really expensive...”

“We don’t have time for that,” scolds Aina. “Is everybody okay? Nobody got hurt? Galo?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Galo reassures her. He tries to stand on his own weight but feels his knees crumple. “...Uh. Maybe you’d better put me down carefully though.”

Aina releases him to Lio, who gently lowers him to sit on a newly-fallen boulder.

Ignis frowns, directing his attention towards Lio. “Is this normal?”

Lio nods, then shakes his head. “Somewhat, but not like this,” he says with a look of concern. "This is way more severe than in the past..."

“Look over there!” says Lucia, pointing towards the horizon in the direction of Tartaros.

Galo looks, and sees a towering black plume of smoke rising from the mountain peak, stretching for miles into the sky. Lightning crackles through the ash plume as a deep booming, rumbling sound reverberates through the landscape. His jaw drops.

“That's Mt. Hades,” he gasps. "The volcano is gonna blow."

At his side, Lio stiffens. “Everyone in Tartaros is in danger.”

“Do you think it has something to do with Royce’s Promare experiment?” asks Aina.

“Who cares if it does? We gotta help!” Galo tries to stand up, stumbles, grabs Lio’s shoulder for support.

"Yeah, but... how the Hell are we gonna get over there in time?" asks Gueira. "We're miles away... and I doubt we can all fit inside that little chopper." He eyes the aircraft that Burning Rescue arrived in, which barely seems large enough to fit all the firefighters, let alone four more passengers.

At that, Lucia snaps her fingers. "I'm so glad you asked," she says, grinning ear to ear. Atop her head, Vinny squeaks excitedly.

She gestures for them to follow her. Galo, supported by Lio, limps after her, with the rest of Mad Burnish and Burning Rescue following in their wake. Lucia leads them around the cliff face, down a gravel path until the view opens up into the valley on the other side.

Standing in that valley, towering over jagged rocks and cacti, is a mech that's as tall as three fire trucks stacked end to end. The bright daylight gleams off its burnished black metal exterior, the massive shoulder pauldrons forming majestic spikes into the sky. Glowing blue rivers of energy criss-cross its exterior like lines on a circuit board. On its chest, the Burning Rescue logo gleams, lit from behind by a glowing light within the machinery of its core.

It's not just any mech... it's _their_ mech.

_Galo de Leona._

"You didn't think we flew all the way from Promepolis in that teeny tiny helicopter, did you?" Lucia quips. 

Galo looks over towards Lio. He's staring out at the mech, eyes shining with wonder.

Carefully, Galo pulls away from Lio's shoulder, finding his own balance. His knees wobble a bit, but then he manages to steady himself. He reaches out and takes Lio's hand in his; Lio's attention immediately snaps to him.

"Lio Fotia," Galo says, voice low. "Would you do me the honor of piloting this mech with me, so that we can save Tartaros together?"

Lio looks up at him, pink eyes shining. A smile forms across his face.

"Hell. Fucking. _Yes._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading as always


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note before we begin: this fic has art now! @whethervane illustrated a scene from Ch.9 (Interlude):  
> https://twitter.com/whethervane/status/1245512765806202882?s=20  
> Thank youuuu!! 8D <3
> 
> Also, as of this chapter I've officially burned thru my entire written backlog, so the final 2 chapters might be a biiiit behind schedule, but i'll try to stick with it as best i can.
> 
> With that said, on with the action! B)
> 
> \--

“Easy now, easy... WHOA!!”

The great mass of the _Galo de Leona_ tilts, threatening to topple over sideways. Galo pinwheels its arms before managing to correct its balance. The hiss of hydraulics and whirl of highly advanced machinery surrounds his ears on all sides, complementing the rushing blood in his ears, the adrenaline pumping in his bloodstream.

“I thought you said you knew how to pilot it!” shouts Lio from where he’s seated in his own pilot’s seat behind Galo.

“I do, I do! Well... sort of...” Galo glances at the control panel before him. It's like his Matoi tech, only there are a lot _more_ buttons and levers than he remembers. "I'm just a little rusty, I guess... but don't worry! My burning soul was born to pilot this thing!" He flashes Lio a grin.

"Yes, about that..." Lio says. "I guess now is a bad time to admit I've never piloted a mech before."

"Sure you have! We did it together, remember?"

"I was the _power source_ , not the pilot! I have no clue what any of these controls do!"

"Galo, this is why I told you to bring him back to Promepolis," says Lucia's voice over the intercom. Her face appears in the corner of the screen display. "Sheesh... I wasn't expecting the grand debut of my masterpiece to be right in the line of fire like this. Not even time for a demo run!"

"Trial by fire, that's the Galo Thymos style!" Galo declares, and flexes. _Galo de Leona_ flexes with him. "...Whoa! Did you see that! I didn't even move the controls that time!"

"Yes, the mech will mimic your body's movements," Lucia says. "That helmet you're wearing actually reads your brainwaves and translates them into commands."

"Whoa, cool!"

"It _is_ cool. And you're perfect for it 'cuz your thoughts are so simple."

"Yeah, I know— hey, wait a sec! What's that s'posed to mean, huh?" Galo crosses his arms, indignant.

Lucia ignores him, turning her attention now to Lio. "Lio, you'll be alright without a training run. Galo's seat lets him control all the mech's movement, so you won't need to worry about any of that. That leaves the fun part to you: you get to handle the weaponry!"

"Weaponry?" asks Lio. "I thought this was a search and rescue machine."

"Well, y'know, it's like how it's you can put a ginormous death laser on a mech as long as you call it a _cultivation beam,_ " Lucia says. "Nothing that’s as tasteless as that, of course. I packed this baby full a' fun surprises, though. There's all kinds of cool stuff you can make it do!"

"Okay..." Lio glances down at the controls, still unsure. "It would probably help to know what any of that stuff is, though."

"But then it won't be a surprise!" Lucia giggles. "Your helmet's just like Galo's, so if you just think clearly enough and tell it what you want, Leona will respond to you."

"Really..." Lio takes a pause, tries to clear his mind. He focuses on drawing on a wellspring of power, like how he used to back when he had his Promare. "I'd like something to defend myself with, then."

Seconds later, he hears it: a little _blip_ in his ear, like the machine heard his request. The mech automatically raises an arm, and a panel lifts up to reveal the gleaming barrel of a cannon.

"Woo! Nice going, " cheers Lucia. "These are hydro cannons. For really _big_ fires! They can spray water over a kilometer."

A thrill runs through Lio. For the first time since he can remember, he'd reached for the voice in the back of his mind, and something had actually responded. Not the Promare, but... It feels as though there is a sort of intelligence to the machine. Lio supposes it isn't all that strange. _If Deus Prometh could upload his brain into a computer, then why not a robot...?_

"Way to go, Lio! You're a natural!" cheers Galo.

"He should be. I designed this mech with you two in mind, after all." Lucia says. "That's why I sent you out into the middle of nowhere to go and find him for me."

"...Why me? We've hardly even met," Lio says.

"Maybe not, but if there's one thing I know, Lio Fotia, it's that you're passionate," Lucia says. "Maybe the only person I've met who's as intense as our favorite number-one Idiot."

"That's right!" Galo looks over his shoulder up at Lio again, grinning that ever-brilliant grin. "Lio's just like me! The two of us share one bright-blazing soul!"

With that, Galo thrusts forwards on the controls. The mech leans forward and begins to walk, crossing through the valley in great strides that impact the earth, leaving craters in the wake of its footfalls. The interior cabin displays a 300-degree view of their surroundings, revealing the craggy terrain that surrounds them, as well as a top-down GPS that shows their coordinates from above.

Off in the distance, black smoke and ash continues to spew from the top of Mt. Hades. Lio glances at it and feels nervous. How long did they have until the volcano would erupt? Lio couldn't know for sure.

"Oh, watch this. Thermal map!" says Lucia.

At her command, the screen display is overlaid with a darkened version, showing sources of heat in glowing shades of pink and white. Beneath the volcano, he can see a seething mass of pink energy.

"That can't be good," says Galo.

The display returns to normal color, and Lucia frowns. "It's hard to tell precisely at this distance... but with these pressure readings, I'd say you've got anywhere between thirty minutes to one hour before this whole thing blows sky-high."

Lio rattles at his controls, trying to urge the mech into motion. "Can't this robot go any _faster_?! We need to help them _now_!"

He hears a _blip_ in his helmet again. Suddenly, the armor on the mech's feet folds back, revealing slender, bladed legs. Vents open up on the robot's shoulders and arms, and with a small explosion of air, Galo de Leona rockets forward across the valley.

"WhaaAAAAAAAAA—" Galo gives a strangled yell, and swerves at the controls just in time to avoid crashing into a steep cliff side. "Can I get a little _warning_ next time?!"

"I didn't know it was gonna do that!" responds Lio, grateful that his body harness keeps him from being thrown across the cockpit.

Rather than halting the robot's momentum, Galo manages to carry it forward, transferring weight from one bladed leg to the other like an ice skater. They cross the rugged terrain with astonishing swiftness. It reminds Lio of the way he used to move in his Detroit mech suit. Although this is an entirely new robot, there's so much of it that's familiar. He doesn't know how exactly Lucia understood him that well, but clearly she put an impressive amount of thought into this mech’s design.

“I studied footage of your fight with Galo,” Lucia explains as they glide across the landscape, “so that way I got a pretty good idea of what you like, and how you like to fight, Lio.”

“I don’t know whether to feel flattered or disturbed by that,” Lio tells her.

“You can just settle for calling me a genius,” Lucia says, “‘cuz I am.”

“Yeah! Lucia, you’re amazing!”

“Thanks, Galo. Don’t fall into that ravine,” Lucia says, and Galo swerves to avoid it.

A blip in the corner of their screen indicates another person is calling in, and Meis and Gueira’s faces appear in little hexagons in the screen overlay.

“Hey, boss,” says Meis. “You’re lookin’ pretty smooth, riding that thing.”

“How does it feel? I’m dyin’ to know,” adds Gueira.

Lio considers his question. The feeling of being in control of this massive machine... it couldn’t be more different from the Promare, and yet, it’s the first time Lio has felt anything like this since losing his Promare; this feeling of _belonging_. It’s how he feels in Galo’s arms sometimes; only now, that feeling is paired with the other thing he missed from being Burnish, of _power_.

“It’s good,” Lio tells them. “Feels almost like I’ve got my Promare again.”

“Not gonna lie, boss, I’m a little jealous,” says Gueira. “But out of all of us, you totally deserve it. You two make one hell of a team.”

“That’s right!” Galo agrees.

“I need you two to stay focused,” Lio reminds Meis and Gueira. “We’re going to need everybody’s support if we’re going to escort the people of Tartaros to safety.”

“Ten-four, boss! Don’t worry, we always got your back.” Out on the dusty cliffside roads that run along the valley, twin plumes of dust rise up being Meis and Gueira’s bikes as they ride in parallel to the mech’s passage through the valley.

The chopper containing Burning Rescue's Third Division hovers up above Galo de Leona’s head, matching pace with the giant mech’s gliding steps as their posse heads into Tartaros, towards the volcano that's belching smoke, ash and sparks. The spreading ash cloud blackens the sunlit sky, plunging the landscape into a hazy twilight.

Lio stares at the volcano, images of the past 48 hours flashing before his eyes.

“I bet I can guess what’s on your mind,” Galo says, casting a glance up over his shoulder towards Lio.

“Oh, really— what am I thinking, then?”

“You’re wondering if this is ‘cause of Royce,” says Galo, gesturing at the volcano on the screen. “And that experiment he was doing to try and bring back the Promare.”

“...Yeah, actually,” Lio says. He’s hardly surprised that his and Galo’s thoughts are so in sync; they’re practically of one mind while they’re inside this mech. “When we left Tartaros, the last thing Royce said to me was that he was going to rekindle the Promare, no matter what. I’m worried he’s gone ahead with that plan.”

“That machine they have down there, it can shoot a person all the way to the core of the planet,” Galo says. “It must be what’s been causing these earthquakes.”

“That means it’s been happening for weeks. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner...”

“Yeah, I was kinda... distracted, too,” Galo admits with a chuckle, and a sideways look at Lio, who feels his face heat up. He returns his gaze to the front of the display screen. “Man, that core injector thingy is really horrible, though. Whoever gets sent down, if they don’t become Burnish, they’ll die from heat exposure.”

“I know,” says Lio. “They were planning to do it to you.”

“ _What?!_ ” Galo stumbles, and the giant robot’s shoulder clips a cliff, sending boulders rumbling down into the valley. “Lio! You think you could’ve mentioned that earlier?!”

“You‘re the one who told them we closed the portal together,” Lio says. “Up until that point, they thought it was just me. Once Royce knew you were involved, he thought that since you had contact with the Promare once, you might have the potential to resonate with them, too."

“They were gonna use me to bring back the Promare?” Galo frowns.

“Yes — or kill you. I think Royce would be pleased with either outcome.”

“In that case, I sure am glad that you saved me, starlight,” Galo says. "I don't think I could handle it.”

"Handle what? Being shot into the core of the planet, or becoming a Burnish?"

"Both, I guess," Galo says with a shrug.

"Being Burnish isn't so bad, you know," Lio says with a wry smile.

"I know that. Just, imagine if I started fires everywhere I went! What kind of firefighter would I be if I did that?”

“You and I set the whole _world_ on fire, remember?”

“...Huh, I guess you’re right,” Galo says thoughtfully. Then, “Wait! That doesn’t count, though. That was a controlled burn, for the sake of saving all life on earth!”

“Oh really,” Lio smirks. “And you’re saying that there wasn’t even a teeny, tiny part of you that _enjoyed_ starting a fire?”

“You’ll never get me to admit it!”

Their conversation is interrupted by a cough over the intercom. Aina’s face appears in the corner of the display screen, showing her seated in the pilot’s seat of the helicopter. “Just so you both know, we can hear everything you say in there.”

“...Oh,” Galo says, his face coloring.

“Look sharp, everybody,” comes Ignis’ voice from behind Aina. “We’ve arrived.”

They’ve come up to the far side of the mountains that frame the valley of the city. Galo slows the mech’s movement, and the heavy armor descends to cover its feet again. He rests the robot’s hand against a rocky ridge and glances over his shoulder towards Lio. “You ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Lio says, and they step around the mountain and enter Tartaros proper.

Galo de Leona enters the valley at its bottommost part, wading into the shallow turquoise lake. Hot water hisses and boils around the robot’s feet, as the attached pumps automatically work to draw the water into the core of the machine for use as fuel.

As soon as the view screen reveals the state of the city, Lio experiences a sinking feeling. There are fires burning all across the valley, as falling embers spark into flame in the dry, hot air. Molten lava floes cover several fields that once held crops. Fortunately, the main area of the village where the majority of houses are remains largely untouched by lava.

Strangely, the normally busy square is deserted.

“Where is everybody?” Galo asks.

“Let me check,” Lio says. “Thermal view, please.”

As the display switches to a heat map, it reveals clusters of bodies gathered inside of most of the buildings.

“They’re not leaving their houses,” Lio says, worried. “Royce must have told them to shelter in place.”

“Well, we gotta get them out of there! It isn’t safe!” Galo says. “I just need something to get their attention...”

“You mean you need your matoi, right?” Lio says with a smile. “On it.”

As soon as he says the word _matoi_ , there’s an answering _blip_ from within his helmet. On Leona’s back and shoulders, panels pop open one by one, as a long, reinforced metal staff extends over the robot’s head, with chained tassels that dangle from the arrow-shaped tip. Bright lights flicker and flare from the head of the staff. Once fully formed, it detaches from Leona’s back and launches overhead before Galo nimbly catches it.

“All right! That’s exactly what I wanted! You get me, Lio,” Galo says, wearing a wide grin. Inside the cockpit, a holographic version of the matoi flickers to life within his hands.

Galo de Leona hoists the colossal matoi over its head. The red and blue lights reflect in the water of the lake, and a loud, blaring fire siren echoes across the valley.

"Lio, you should speak to them," Galo says as he waves the Matoi. "They'll definitely listen to you! You're their hero!"

Lio nods. On the control panel in front of him, a microphone symbol lights up. Another panel lifts up on Leona's shoulders to reveal loudspeakers.

"Citizens of Tartaros," Lio says into the mic, and his voice booms out with an echo. "This is Lio Fotia. You need to evacuate your homes immediately. The volcano is going to erupt, and your lives are all in danger." He glances up at the Burning Rescue helicopter hovering over the valley. "We are here to help. Gather by the lake side and we will evacuate you to safety."

Lio waits, tension bubbling up inside, and watches as people emerge from their houses and stare with awe at the towering mech that stands in their valley. Slowly, too slowly, groups of people begin to congregate and descend the stairs down towards the lake shore. Up above, the volcano utters a dull roar.

The cacophony of sirens, rumbling magma, and the _thup-thup-thup_ of helicopter blades is joined by the growl of a motorcycle engine as the Mad Burnish generals arrive astride their bikes.

"Boss!" Meis and Gueira's faces appear in the corner of the view screen. "We're gonna go house by house and make certain everybody's cleared out!"

"Yes, good idea you two."

As Meis and Gueira go door to door, starting with the uphill houses that are closest to the volcano, A loud _BOOM_ echoes through the air. A piece of rock dislodges from high up on the mountain, releasing a molten-hot cascade of glowing orange lava, which flows over earth and rubble, descending on the valley like a serpent that has sighted prey. It's on a collision course with the center of town, unless they do something about it.

"Ready hydro cannons," Lio says, and the armor slides back from the robot's wrist to reveal the gleaming barrels once again. He raises one arm up, aiming it towards the advancing lava. There's a rumble within the inner workings of the mech, and then a torrential spray of water shoots out through the cannon, the force of it sending Leona sliding back a few paces. It hisses on contact with the lava, cooling it immediately to glass and filling the surroundings with hot steam.

Burning Rescue's helicopter touches down on the shore of the lake by Galo de Leona's feet. Remi and Varys disembark, equipped with lightweight fire-fighting equipment and slimmed down versions of their usual mechs. Ignis steps down as well, his sunglasses reflecting the pyroclastic chaos of the volcano up above.

They disembark just in time to greet the first group of evacuees arriving at the lake shore. On seeing the Burning Rescue logos across the sides of their helicopter and emblazoned on their mechs, some of the Burnish visibly hesitate, wariness and fear showing across their faces at the sight of all these non-Burnish.

Lio notices their hesitation, too. “Don’t be afraid. Burning Rescue is here to help,” he tells them in his authoritative voice. “They rescued thousands of Burnish from the engine of the Parnassus. You can trust them to get you to safety.”

As Lio attempts to put their minds at ease, Remi and Varys each set up fireproof transport pods, which unfold into cubes designed to carry a dozen passengers apiece.

After some hesitation, one of the Burnish steps forward. She’s holding a child in her arms. Purple frostbite bruises show across her forehead and arms. It’s Zara, and the small child she’s holding is her son Lio.

“I— I know they’re telling the truth,” Zara says to the gathered Burnish. “Lio and Galo both saved my life. We can trust them.”

Carrying her son, she steps into the open door of Varys’ container pod. Seeing her do this, several others follow her lead, until the pod is at capacity. The entrance seals, and Varys hoists it on the shoulders of his mech.

“Everybody hold on tight,” he addresses his passengers. Then he looks towards Ignis. “Chief, you established an evacuation point for us yet?”

Ignis nods. “Far side of the lake, about a kilometer to the southeast. I identified it during our flyover. Lucia will send the coordinates.”

“Roger that,” Varys says, and without further hesitation heads off in that direction. The hydraulics in his mech legs hiss and give off steam as it propels him forward with a striking degree of agility, given his bulk and the multi-ton capsule he carries.

Remi, likewise, directs the next wave of Burnish into his transport capsule, hoisting it on his mech and taking off in the same direction as Varys. Ignis helps boost children up so they can board the helicopter; once the chopper is fully loaded with its doors sealed, he hooks himself onto the side and stands on the landing gear as it rises to a hover before heading towards the rendezvous point.

As the next wave of evacuees arrives on the shore, the volcano grumbles and spews molten chunks of rock and hot-burning ash into the sky, which starts to rain down in plinks and pebbles over the heads of the people that are making their way to the shore, causing some of them to yell and run for cover in panic.

Galo, seeing this, brandishes the matoi. "Don't worry, I got this!" The head of the matoi begins to spin, whipping the dangling chains into a whirling dervish. "Super ancient firefighter technique: gale-force wind burst!" he shouts, as a swirl of compressed air blasts out from the head of the staff, clearing the sky overhead of ash and smoke and allowing the next wave of Burnish to reach the lakeside safely.

Lio chuckles. "Did you come up with that name on the spot?"

"Sure did!" Galo says with a grin. "You gotta name all your moves, that makes them stronger!"

Lio smiles at him fondly; then he refocuses, concentrating. "We need some way to transport all these people while we wait for Burning Rescue to return," he says.

With an answering blip, the mech responds. More panels unfold from Leona's back, this time revealing a fireproof transport capsule, a super-sized version of the one that Remi and Varys carry on their backs. The mech walks ashore and kneels, allowing passengers to climb inside. Some of the adults show trepidation on their faces; but the young kids scream with excitement and all race each other for the chance to ride inside the giant robot.

The extra room in the back of the mech allows them to cram every last Burnish waiting on shore into the safety capsule before the door seals shut. A video feed of the interior of the capsule pops up in the corner of the viewscreen in the cockpit.

"Everybody good back there?" Galo asks them. "You're in the hands of the world's number one firefighter, so you got nothing to fear! Now, hold on tight to whatever's in reach," he says, and carefully raises the mech up to stand again. The passengers jostle around but otherwise appear unbothered by the movement. Leona carefully strides across the lake, heading towards the drop-off point outside the valley.

In less time than it takes Lio to fasten up the belts on his outfit in the morning, they cross the lake and arrive at the rendezvous point. Burning Rescue is already there, and they help the passengers disembark from the back of the mech and escort them to a waiting area, where Remi inspects them for injuries underneath the watchful eye of Ignis.

Once the passengers are fully offloaded, the transport capsule folds back into the mech as Galo de Leona straightens to its full height. Galo gives the evacuees a friendly wave before hurrying off back towards Tartaros again.

As they close in on the lake shore once more, Lio opens the comms line. "Gueira, Meis, what's your status?"

"Almost done over here, boss!" says Gueira.

"Just a few stragglers left to round up, and we'll meet you by the shore," adds Meis.

"Good work, you two," Lio tells them. Already, he can see the last group of remaining Burnish descending down the sloping hill towards the evacuation point. They're followed by Gueira and Meis on their bikes, each of them with an extra passenger on board.

Just as Meis and Gueira and the rest of the Burnish congregate on the shore, they are interrupted by a new, unfortunately familiar sound: loud engines revving in chorus, the cacophony of which momentarily drowns out the rumbling volcano.

Eight identical black riders descend the slopes of Mt. Hades. Flames follow in the wake of their motorcycle wheels, painting parallel trails of unearthly fire down the side of the mountain.

Lio’s eyes widen in disbelief.

_No way... that’s impossible._

The lead rider raises their hand above their head. Colorful fire gathers in their palm, pink and neon cyan, forming a massive fireball, which they fling towards Galo de Leona.

Galo raises the matoi as a shield, the tip of it spinning as it meets the fireball. It deflects the flames, sending sparks trailing off the chained tassels.

“Lio, these guys are Burnish!” Galo says. “How is that even possible?!”

Lio shakes his head in disbelief. The worst of his fears have been confirmed: Royce must have successfully reopened the portal without Lio's help.

The evacuees on the beach hesitate. Their heads turn to look at the advancing Burnish riders, wearing expressions of surprise and awe.

As the riders draw closer and come into clearer view, Lio recognizes the person at the head of the pack by the spiked ears on their helmet. Harley seems even more massive than before, sitting astride a fire-construct motorcycle that thrums with power only the Promare could provide. They hold up their hand, and everything seems to still as all attention in the valley focuses on them for a moment.

“Proud Burnish of Tartaros,” Harley says, their normally soft voice booming out as though amplified by the power they now hold. “Do not trust these traitors, or the outsiders they bring with them. They stand opposed to Lord Royce’s grand vision for us all.”

“Harley, what are you saying?!” Lio asks. “You’re the ones who set off the volcano! Why destroy the home that these people worked so hard to build?”

Harley gestures wide with their arms at the village that surrounds them. “It’s true, Tartaros may be sacrificed to the fires of Mt. Hades. But what rises up from the ashes will be far greater than what was lost.”

The gathered crowd murmurs. Sparks and ash rain down overhead.

“Tens of thousands of innocent people will die if you bring back the Promare,” Lio tells them. “Stop this at once, and just let us Burnish live in peace!”

Harley shakes their head. In their outstretched palms, Burnish fires kindle to life in a threat display. “Lio Fotia. A shame you could not see the Flamespeaker’s true vision,” Harley says. “Now, you barricade yourself behind walls of steel and ice to hide the fact that your flame has gone out, while Lord Royce’s Fire burns brighter than ever!”

Lio swallows against a dry throat. “Royce told me about his plan. He wants to use the flame in order to rule over all non-burnish. That’s not what we stand for! Burnish aren’t killers!”

“That’s no longer your call to make, Lio Fotia,” Harley says, before turning to address the gathered Burnish. “Those still loyal to the Eternal Flame, hear me! Our Flamespeaker has re-forged his connection to the fire, and shared that with those of us in his inner circle. Join us — and we Burnish can seize our rightful place as blazing beacons of this world’s future!”

They gesture towards the volcano that looms overhead. 

Lightning crackles through the ash clouds. With a cracking BOOM, lava spurts into the sky. As it illuminates the dark sky overhead, thousands of tiny glittering triangles emerge from the volcano’s peak, flickering and dancing through the air like so many fireworks.

In the back of Lio’s head, he hears a cacophony of familiar voices. His eyes widen.

The Promare — they’re _screaming_.

“Burnish, look to your future!” Harley points upwards. “Lord Royce has immersed himself in the Eternal Flame and is now reborn!”

The rumbling gets even louder as countless more tiny triangular lights fountain out of the volcano’s open mouth. They’re followed by a spire of lava which rockets into the sky, then coalesces into the form of an arm, with four sharp, pointed fingers. The arm reaches down to grip the sides of the volcano, as it’s joined by a secondary arm made of lava, and the shape of something massive emerges from within the core of the volcano.

“These temperature levels are off the charts,” says Lucia over the transceiver. “What _is_ that thing?!”

The head of the creature emerges next, and is joined by several more arms as it pulls its long, lava-formed body out from the belly of Mt. Hades. Its shape is serpentine, like a salamander, with more pairs of legs than is reasonably necessary. Numerous sets of white-glowing eyes tear themselves open on its long, lizardlike head. It unspools itself from the mouth of the volcano and coils around the mountaintop, several kilometers in length. 

Set in the center of its forehead, inside of the brightest glowing eye, Lio can just barely make out the darkened shape of a humanoid figure.

The lava monster’s mouth yawns wide, revealing jagged teeth dripping glowing hot magma like saliva. It howls, and the sound of it quakes the ground beneath their feet.

“Behold,” says Harley. “Prometheus, the firebringer!”

“Uh-oh.” “Oh, shit.” say Gueira and Meis simultaneously.

Within the cockpit of the mech, Galo and Lio exchange a look. As one, they assume a fighting stance, with the tip of the matoi pointed at the monster’s seething maw.

“That’s a biiiig fire, all right,” says Galo, and despite the staggering difference in size between them and their opponent, he’s wearing a cocky grin. “But it’s no match for the world’s greatest firefighting team! You ready, Lio?”

Lio feels a smile grow on his face, too.

“Yeah,” he says, staring out at the burning form of Prometheus. “Bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've always thought that the only way promare could be even cooler is if it had kaiju fights in it


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay in getting this chapter up!! this month has been crazy lmao.  
> what better way to unwind than with some peaceful, relaxing robot fights?  
> enjoy!

Galo’s fought a lot of different kinds of fires.

No matter what type of blaze, he knows how to douse it: from gas leaks to electrical fires, grease fires, car fires, wildfires, lightning strikes, and of course, Burnish flames. From the moment he vowed to the world that he'd become the Greatest Firefighter Ever, he's made that his mission. Now, he's proud to say that Galo Thymos has never met a fire he couldn't put out.

He’s never fought anything like this before, though.

The monstrous, serpentine shape of Prometheus unfurls itself from where it’s coiled around the volcano’s peak. Its size boggles the mind; the closest thing Galo has seen to it is when Lio was tearing through the streets of Promepolis with a super-sized Burnish flare. _This_ monster is even bigger, and more solid than the flickering flame-formed dragon. Its amorphous, salamander-like body is shaped out of glowing magma that continues to spew from the top of the mountain.

Prometheus opens its jagged, white-hot mouth and hisses, like pressurized steam escaping from a vent. The sound of it sends the countless tiny triangular lights in the sky overhead spiralling into a frenzy.

“Uuuhhh...” Lio, unexpectedly, grasps the sides of his helmet and hunches over, as if in pain.

“Lio!” Galo says in alarm. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?!”

“I’m— fine,” Lio says with a wince. “It’s not me, it’s the Promare. They’re loud.”

“Wait, you can hear them?”

“I could before, too,” Lio admits. “I’ve been... seeing them... in my dreams.”

"Wh—really? 

He looks up, meets Galo’s eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

The thought that Lio felt like he needed to keep something like that secret from Galo, even now, puts a twist in the pit of his stomach; but he ignores it for now, recognizing they’ve got bigger problems. “So if you’re hearing the Promare, does that mean you’re Burnish again?”

“...No,” Lio says after a short pause. “It’s more like I’m still tuned in to their radio frequency. I can hear them, but they aren’t a part of me.”

“Well... what are they saying?”

“They’re angry. Hurting.” Lio frowns. “Human emotions were always too much for them to handle. They take their host’s emotional energy, and reflect it out a hundred times stronger.”

“Huh.” Galo frowns as he looks at the lava monster, and the tiny human figure silhouetted in its central glowing eye. “If that thing is actually Royce, he’s gotta be _really_ angry, then.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Lio says sarcastically.

Galo surveys the scene across the valley. In the shadow of the mech, on the shores of the turquoise lake, stands a small cluster of refugees from Tartaros, the last remaining dozen after the rest of the population was safely evacuated by Burning Rescue. 

“Gueira, Meis. I need you two to escort the refugees to the safe zone.” Lio gestures towards the burning shape of Prometheus. “We’ll keep them occupied.”

“Boss— you’re gonna fight _that thing_?! It’s huge!”

“Well, it’s a whole lot smaller than the whole planet, and we basically fought that before, so...” Galo grins. “I’d say we have a decent shot!”

The volcano rumbles, as Prometheus begins to slither down from the peak towards the basin of the valley, leaving behind molten craters filled with lava with every footfall.

“We can’t let it get any closer to those people,” says Galo. “You got anything to keep him at a distance?”

“Sure,” Lio replies. He grabs the mech controls, and _Galo de Leona_ assumes a fighting stance, brandishing its matoi staff. “I’ve got an idea to help him cool off a bit.”

“Go for it, Lio!”

Lio smiles, and then the matoi transforms. Its sides unfold, narrowing and lengthening into a long arch that’s nearly as tall as the mech itself. The chains link together in back, forming the string of a giant longbow. Lio pulls back on the bowstring, and supercooled water vents out of the tips of the mech’s fingers, crystallizing into a giant arrow made of ice.

Lio unleashes the ice arrow, which whistles through the air as it flies across the valley with a marksman’s precision, and embeds itself in the lava body of Prometheus. As soon as it collides, the arrow explodes into crystals and steam. It leaves behind a blackened spot of cooled magma where it hit. 

In retaliation, Prometheus lets out a deep, reverberating roar. It opens its cavernous mouth and belches out a massive fireball in the direction of the mech. Lio reacts quickly, summoning another arrow and shooting it out to collide with the fireball in midair. The two projectiles meet with an explosion, raining shards and chunks of burning hot glass down over the valley.

Galo’s boyfriend is _so fucking cool_ , he thinks.

With a series of precise shots, Lio unleashes a second volley of ice arrows. He targets Prometheus’ legs with explosions of ice, freezing them to black glass and rooting it to the sides of the mountain. Distracted, the monster turns to breathe a plume of fire over its own frozen legs, trying to melt the hardened rock and set itself free.

“It’s working! Keep it up, he's not gonna be going anywh—" Galo begins to say, just as something massive collides with the side of the mech.

The impact jerks Galo and Lio from their pilot seats, and only the harnesses they wear prevent them from being flung entirely across the cockpit. Once Galo regains his bearings, he looks over towards the dark, angular shape that’s covering a large portion of the view screen.

Clinging to the side of the mech is a four-legged black creature wreathed in flames. Its heavy claws dig scraping marks into Leona's shoulder as it clings to the side of the mech. Its face resembles a motorcycle helmet: smoothly curved with no visible eyes, but with sharp pointed spikes in the shape of feline ears, and white patterns on the front that resemble a mouth with jagged fangs. Burnish fire flares out around the base of its neck like a lion's mane.

Galo raises an arm, and manages to pry the burning beast off the side of the mech. It lands on the calcite lake shore, long claws digging score marks into the ground. The lion-like creature snarls, and then a voice reverberates from inside:

“You chose the wrong side, Lio Fotia!!” a voice echoes metallic from within the Burnish armor.

“Fuck, I forgot about Harley,” says Lio.

Though the armored shape of the beast only comes up to _Galo de Leona’s_ knees, Harley's feline agility allows them to evade the mech’s heavy punches and strike back with brutally sharp claws that tear open score marks in the metal plating on Leona’s arms. Galo pants with effort as he tries to dodge its relentless attacks.

“Hey, watch it! This is a brand new mech,” Galo says, using the matoi-turned-longbow as a crude bludgeon to try and hit Harley. The lion easily evades, and instead manages to catch its jagged white teeth in the chains that make up the longbow’s string. When Galo tries to wrench the matoi out of the lion’s mouth, instead the chain comes loose with a SNAP. Galo curses. “My matoi!”

“They're too quick. We need more speed,” Lio says. At his suggestion, air vents open up on Leona again, allowing them to dodge backwards out of the range of Harley’s next pounce. The large, black armored Burnish lands with a splash in the lake, water sizzling off its superheated form, and gives a growl of anger.

Galo takes advantage of the brief moment before Harley launches their next attack to scan their surroundings. The refugees, with Gueira and Meis accompanying them, have by now made it most of the way to the other side of the lake. Up on top of the volcano, Prometheus frees one of its legs from its frozen prison, and redirects its fire towards its other leg. All the while, gouts of lava continue to bubble up out of the cone of the volcano, causing the magma monster to grow ever larger. Galo worries if they don’t put a complete stop to it soon, Prometheus might grow too large for even their giant mech to stand a chance against it.

A growling roar refocuses Galo’s attention on the more immediate threat. The water level in the turquoise lake has gone down significantly, due to Leona drawing on it for fuel and Harley’s Burnish heat evaporating it on touch. Where once the burning lion stood in water, they now stand on dry, cracked ground as the lake shrinks in size.

The flaming mane around Harley’s pseudo-face flares up, and a massive fireball gathers in front of their shining white fangs. Galo raises the damaged matoi again to deflect it, but in its longbow shape, it isn’t enough to dispel the full force of the fire, which impacts the mech’s armor and leaves behind a searing scorch mark.

A computerized voice informs them of outer hull damage to the chest. That area of the mech is the most heavily armored; but it also contains the mini fusion reactor which powers the whole thing, meaning that they cannot under any circumstances allow it to be breached.

With a sinking feeling, Galo realizes that they’re at a stalemate which they are slowly losing. Leona can only fight Harley or Prometheus, but not both at once; as soon as the lava monster frees itself completely, if they haven’t managed to deal with Harley at that point then they won’t stand a chance against their powers combined. Meanwhile, the ground continues to rumble as more and more Promare bleed out from the open mouth of the volcano. 

Just when it seems matters can’t get worse, another higher-pitched growl echoes from close by. Almost a dozen more flaming black motorcycles with Burnish riders crest the hill, gaining speed as they descend into the sloping valley. They accelerate up a rocky incline and leap at _Galo de Leona_ , striking the mech with their own blasts of flame before landing in the dried-up lake bed. They ride in tighter and tighter circles in a perimeter around the mech’s feet, trapping the mech within a ring of fire.

Galo wipes the sweat off his brow. “Any more bright ideas, Lio?”

“There’s too many of them! I can’t concentrate enough to aim,” Lio says, as the burning ring of flames shrinks closer and closer.

Just beyond the ring, Harley laughs within their lion armor suit, and the sky cracks and rumbles.

“Oh, _hell_ no!” exclaims Galo. “We did _not_ go through everything just to be stopped by a bunch of jerks who think they’re hot stuff 'cuz they got a sweet ride.” Inside the fire tornado, he strikes a pose and the mech does the same. “We’re Galo Thymos and Lio Fotia, and nothing's gonna stop us from saving the world again, as many times as it takes!”

With that, Galo de Leona sticks its foot into the flaming circle.

It happens quickly enough that the black rider in front doesn’t have time to react. They attempt to swerve the flaming bike out of the way, but end up vaulting off the side of the giant mech’s foot, flipping wheels-over-head in the air, and crash landing in a burning pile. The seven other riders likewise try to swerve around the crash, before they, too, get caught up in the mess. The flame tornado dissipates, as do the Burnish-construct bikes they were riding; what remains is a pile of Royce’s minions, groaning into their helmets.

“Good thinking,” Lio says.

“I just remembered, we’re huge,” Galo says with a grin. “And this robot’s awesome!”

“They won’t stay knocked down forever, you know,” Lio points out. “We need to find a way to deal with them more permanently.”

Worry creases Galo’s brow. “I don’t wanna kill anybody!”

“Neither do I,” Lio tells him. “But if we let that monster out of the volcano, it could potentially set off another Great World Blaze.”

“Right,” Galo says. “That’s not good. We just gotta push through with our burning souls!”

_Thup-thup-thup-thup-thup._

Galo hears the now-familiar sound echo from overhead, and he looks upwards to see the Burning Rescue helicopter hovering over the valley.

At the same time, Prometheus gives a triumphant roar as it manages to free another one of its legs. It breathes a plume of cinders over the valley, which drop like molten rain, sizzling in the lake water and bombarding the little helicopter.

“Aina! Are you all right?”

Aina’s flight-goggled face blips into view on the control screen. “I’m all right, for now,” she tells him. “But I can’t stay here long, or they’ll knock me out of the sky. I just came to bring you a present.”

At her words, a hatch opens in the bottom of the helicopter, and two large figures drop out, landing with cracking craters in the lake bed.

“There, that should help!” Aina says. “Be careful, you two. Stop that thing, and try not to die!”

“Thanks, Aina!” Galo responds with a grin, as the two figures get up to their feet.

It’s Remi and Varys’ mechs — but the people inside them are not Remi and Varys.

“Yo, Boss, check it out!” says Gueira, waving the thick mechanical arm of Varys’ mech. “It’s like we’re Miami and Dallas again!”

Despite the dire situation, a grin forms on Lio’s face. “Think you can pilot those things?”

“Sure! You're doing it, right? How hard can it be?”

The black shape of Harley’s beast-mech rounds on Gueira and Meis with a low, rumbling growl, their flaming mane flaring out.

“Here, kitty kitty,” says Meis.

“We’ve got this one, boss,” says Gueira. He squares his shoulders in a fighting stance and looks over at Harley. “Ready for a rematch, kitty cat? I’ll beat you, just like last time!”

Harley gives an animalistic growl and their claws ignite in flames. Meis pulls out an ice gatling gun and unleashes a barrage of freezing shots, which sizzle as they impact the hot Burnish armor.

Harley growls, shaking off the ice, and tries to ignore the two smaller mechs, instead lunging for Galo de Leona. The lion’s pounce is arrested when Meis darts in front of them, catching their claws mid-leap. Gueira then comes up from behind, wrapping his mech’s heavy metal arms around Harley’s midsection, lifting them up overhead and slamming them upside-down into the cracked earth.

As the dust clears, Harley’s flaming mane sputters, and a piece of their white fanged facemask cracks and falls away, revealing a burning amber eye that glares out at Gueira and Meis.

"Whoa! Nice!" Galo says in appreciation.

"Told ya we had it under control," says Meis smugly. "Now, quit standin' around watching us, and go fight that bigass lava lizard before it burns this whole place down!"

Galo turns his attention up to the volcano once again. There’s the sound of breaking glass which echoes across the valley, as Prometheus manages to wrench free its last leg from the frozen stone. Its massive head looks up, with its many white-glowing eyes focused on Galo de Leona. The Promare floating in midair around it seethe and shimmer like a heat mirage.

"They're right. We can't waste any more time," says Lio.

“Yeah, but..." Galo holds up the damaged matoi, now useless with its bowstring cut. “If we’re gonna take the fight to that thing, I think we’ll need a new weapon.”

“Got it,” answers Lio.

An indicator on the view screen warns them that fuel levels are low and they need more water. The once-massive lake they were standing in has been drained and evaporated in the heat of Burnish fires. Only a much smaller pool of water remains at the center of the basin. Galo de Leona wades into this pool, lifting the matoi high overhead before plunging it into the deepest part of the lake.

Immediately, pumps activate on the mech and the rest of the water begins draining out of the lake and into the hydro-fusion reactor core. The fuel indicator turns green, and Leona slowly draws the matoi up from beneath the surface of the water.

The weapon emerges out of the lake, transformed once again. Its shape is broader and flatter, the remaining chained tassels dangling from the cross-guard of its hilt. Sharp ice protrudes from either side of the flattened shape, forming a bladed edge. The blade tapers to a point at the tip, as Leona completely withdraws the matoi from beneath the water’s surface, now formed in the shape of a broadsword.

“All right! Now that’s more like it,” Galo says, grinning as he places both hands on the matoi-sword’s hilt. He can’t help but strike a pose with it, pointing the very tip of the sword towards Prometheus atop the mountain.

Lio smiles too. “What better way to slay a monster than with a sword?”

“Hell yeah! Swords rule,” Galo says. “Now, let’s go show Royce what we’re made of.”

Galo de Leona strides out of the empty lake basin, heading uphill into Tartaros proper. They gingerly step around the hand-built clay brick houses, some of which have had their roofs caved in by falling volcanic debris. Galo feels a pang of loss at seeing this village in ruins. This had been their home for the past two weeks, a virtual paradise where they knew everybody's names and faces. Now, it looks like a war zone. And with the volcano up above threatening to bury them all in molten rubble, it may soon not even exist at all.

At least the former Burnish were safe, thanks to Burning Rescue's help. They’re all that really matters, in the end; as long as Tartaros has its people, they can rebuild.

That's what they're fighting for, Galo reminds himself as the mech leaves a massive footprint beside the house where he, Lio, Meis and Gueira had stayed. They're fighting for the peaceful future that these people deserve.

As they approach closer to the volcano, the closer they get the more a pained look shows on Lio's face. Galo knows without asking that it's because of Lio's connection with the Promare. He can't hear their voices himself, but he can almost feel Lio's reaction to them, synchronized as they are together in the cockpit of _Galo de Leona_. Galo wishes he could reach out and comfort Lio, but he knows that the only way to ease his pain will be solving the problem at its root. They need to stop Royce, and close the gateway between dimensions that has let the Promare back into their world.

As Galo de Leona climbs to meet Prometheus, the lava monster descends, winding down the side of the volcano like a flowing river. Its many legs leave searing hot impressions in the rocky earth. Its blazing eyes are fixed on Leona, as though it has been eagerly awaiting their one-on-one clash. The dancing lights of the Promare swirl around its head and swim through the lava of its body. In the center of its forehead, the human figure of Royce floats in a field of burning white, arms outstretched. He waves his arm in a sweeping gesture, and the lava monster sends its tail lashing out towards Leona as soon as they are in range.

Leona raises the broadsword to block it. Molten lava sizzles against the matoi and melts the icy edge of the blade on contact. The mech weathers the attack, shedding lava drops which freeze and shatter on the ground around its feet. The sides of the matoi blade vent supercooled water which freezes instantly to replace the melted sections, sharper and spikier than before.

Galo heaves upwards at the controls, and the mech lifts the broadsword over its head, bringing it down heavily on Prometheus. The serpent weaves its head out the way of the slow and heavy strike, but the blade finds purchase on the monster's body. It freezes the lava as it makes contact, cutting a blackened freeze-mark across the monster’s chest.

Prometheus rears back, hissing molten droplets which ping acidic across Leona's armor. It then lunges with jagged teeth and a white-hot mouth to chomp down the mech. In a flash, Leona raises the sword up to block the attack using the flat part of the blade, lodging it between the monster’s jagged teeth. Ice sublimates into steam on contact with the lava. Prometheus reads back, hissing, drooling strings of lava onto the roof of the Temple of Flame.

Seeing the monster recoil, they go on the offensive. Wielding the sword with a fencer’s finesse, Leona delivers a series of rapid, slicing strikes, cutting frozen-black wounds across the lava body of the creature. The ice sword shears off molten chunks like the polar opposite of a hot knife through butter.

Inside the cockpit, Galo shouts out names for their attacks:

“Far East Swordfighter technique: Fire Safety Slice!!”

With Galo’s battlecry, the sword comes down heavily and cleaves an entire leg off Prometheus’ body. The monster howls, and bleeds Promare from the wound where its leg once was. As lava spills out and cools rapidly, the monster appears to shrink, losing mass the more lava it leaves behind.

“Hey, Galo,” says Lio, “Can I name our next attack?”

“Of course, babe!”

“Thanks.” Lio smiles, and the mech automatically shifts control to him. The holographic sword appears in Lio’s hands, which he holds up at eye level, staring straight ahead down the blade's tip, which is levelled at Prometheus’ seething maw.

The monster seems to pause, too, the floating human figure in the center of its forehead looking out at them with burning lights in his eyes. For a moment, their gazes meet.

“This is for those we burned,” Lio says, voice deep. “For the brave Burnish who turned to ash for the sake of a better future. I won’t let you steal away their sacrifice just so you can have more power, Royce!”

Enraged, the lava monster rears back. It towers over Galo de Leona and the valley of Tartaros, the molten lights of its body reflecting off the ash clouds up above. It lets out a howl loud enough to quake the ground, and fixes its many eyes on the mech down below.

“Um, Lio,” Galo says, “it looks like it’s gonna attack. Should we maybe... move out of the way—“

“No,” Lio says, resolute. “I’m done running away.”

Prometheus descends, crashing down on them like a tidal wave. Lio raises the sword at the very last moment before the monster strikes, angling it directly to the glowing interior of its mouth and thrusting forward. The air jets on the mech’s arms fire up, giving them the extra torque needed in order to pierce the matoi through the back of the monster's throat and out the other side.

The lava serpent howls in agony, molten material burbling up its throat and cascading out in a flood. It recoils, taking the matoi with it, which remains lodged inside its mouth as it thrashes about. 

Black fractures appear throughout its form, spreading outwards from the sword. Galo realizes that the matoi is draining its body heat. Chunks of partially-molten material slough off the sides of its body, large boulders tumbling down the slopes and into the valley of Tartaros like an avalanche. It seems to be having difficulty holding its form together as it cools.

As soon as the monster appears to realize its efforts to dislodge the sword have failed, Prometheus turns away, hissing, and starts to retreat up the side of the volcano again.

"He's fleeing," says Lio.

"We can't let him get away! He has my matoi!"

Galo takes control of the mech again and begins pursuing Prometheus up the side of the volcano, urging Leona up the steep, rugged slope. The monster leaves behind a glowing trail of melted rock as it slithers back up towards the top of the mountain. The higher they climb, the more intense the heat becomes, until even the insulated cabin of the cockpit starts to warm up to uncomfortable levels. Sweat pours off Galo's forehead, soaking his hair against his face.

Finally, they ascend high enough to see what awaits them at the peak.

Within the volcano's basin, inside a churning whirlpool of lava, lies the interdimensional portal to the Promare.

The gateway lies at the bottommost point of the basin, stretching across the lava lake. It's triangular in shape and blacker than the void of space within. Its edges flicker and tremble, as though the walls of reality itself are having a hard time accommodating it. Triangular flecks are fountaining out, swirling on a chaotic updraft, illuminating the sky with flashes of light.

On the opposite side of the volcano's seething cauldron, Prometheus' colossal head rises over the ridge. Large gobs of cooling lava are leaking off its form, its bright glow fading duller and duller as its internal temperature drops. The matoi still lodged in its body is making it harder and harder for the monster to keep itself together.

Despite the slow disintegration of its lava body, Prometheus lets out an earth-cracking roar, causing Leona to slip a handhold and slide down a few hundred meters. The monster then raises several lava-formed legs, grasping onto the hilt of the matoi, and finally manages to drag the sword out of its own throat. The now-blackened and useless matoi falls, tumbling end over end down the sides of the volcano. Galo makes a small wounded noise at the loss of it, but he knows that they have bigger things to worry about right now.

The lava serpent raises its head over the portal. It opens its jagged mouth impossibly wide, and the triangular lights of the Promare flow out of the portal and are sucked into the body of the monster. As they do, the black fractures fade away as a hot-orange glow returns to Prometheus' body. The Promare course through it like blood, pink lights crackling throughout its form as it drinks them up, its shape solidifying again as its temperature increases.

"It's... eating the Promare?!" Galo exclaims. "It's gonna heal away all the damage we just did!"

Lio responds with an anguished groan. Galo whips his head around to see him clutching at the sides of his helmet, knees bent, shoulders shaking in pain.

"Lio!!"

Through grit teeth, Lio manages to say, "The Promare... they're so loud..."

"What are they saying?"

"Not... words," Lio grits his teeth. "Just... feelings. Anger, betrayal. Pain." 

Outside, Prometheus continues to sup on the alien lights streaming out of the portal. The colors inside its body flash, turning from duller orange to hot pink and cyan and white. Eventually, the energy it's absorbing becomes so great that burning-hot vents explode out of the monster's back, flaring into the sky like jagged wings made of fire. Yet the monster continues to feed, as though it cannot separate itself from the source any longer.

"Please," says Lio, "It... hurts..."

"We gotta stop this thing, now!" Galo says. "Lucia, if you put a last-minute superweapon on this mech, now would be a great time for that!!"

 _Galo de Leona_ responds with an affirmative beep. The inner workings of the mech groan and rumble, echoing the pyroclastic chaos outside. A fuel indicator warns them their water levels are running low. They haven't got much left; everything is going into this one, final resort.

After an agonizing moment, the noises quiet and words blink on the control screen:

_Absolute Zero Chain Freezing Bomb._

"Whoa," Galo says, "Now that sounds like what we're talking about! Right, starlight?"

Lio goes silent. Galo glances over his shoulder to see him staring at the words on screen, an unreadable emotion on his face.

"...Lio?"

"I know this tech," Lio says, voice a monotone. "It freezes by absorbing nearby heat. The hotter it gets, the more quickly it freezes."

"Think it can stop an erupting volcano?"

Lio nods. "I'm sure it can. But..." His eyes are flat, like glass. "If we drop this with the portal right there... it could spill over to the other side.”

"You mean, the Promare’s world?”

Lio nods. “This weapon will stop Prometheus... but it could destroy the Promare in the process.”

“Lio...” conflicted emotions roil within Galo. “What should we do? I don’t wanna hurt the Promare... but... do we have a choice?”

Lightning flashes outside the mech. The earth beneath is rocked by another quake as more lava surges up through the fissures in the ground, spewing molten gobs of rock and ash into the air and cascading down the steep slope.

“We need to close that portal,” Lio says.

“Okay,” says Galo. “We did it once before. How hard can it be?”

“Right,” Lio agrees. “I have an idea.”

“I figured you would. What’s the plan, starlight?”

As Galo watches, Lio reaches up and lifts the mech helmet off his head, shaking out mint green hair damp with sweat.

He looks up at Galo, a blaze inside his pink eyes.

“I need you to open the cockpit and let me outside.”

“Wh— _what?!_ ” Galo splutters. Of all the things Lio could suggest, leaving the safety of the insulated mech was _not_ what he anticipated. “Lio! Do you see how crazy dangerous it is right now? It’s like a billion degrees, and there’s a _monster_ out there! Why would you wanna go outside?”

“I have to speak to the Promare. They can’t hear me from inside here,” Lio says. 

Galo shakes his head in disbelief. “And usually _I’m_ the one with the crazy ideas...” 

“The Promare know me. If I can just speak with them, I’m sure I can get them to listen.” Lio unplugs his suit from the mech controls, his vital signs fading dark on screen. “Communicating my will to them is the only way I can think of to close the portal without completely destroying their world in the process.”

“Lio, I...” Galo swallows a lump in his throat. “I don’t wanna lose you again.”

He takes a step towards Galo. “Do you trust me?”

Galo’s heart squeezes like a vise. “Of course I do.”

“So protect me,” Lio says, wearing a small smile. “Use that burning firefighter’s soul of yours.”

“Starlight...” Galo’s stomach twists and roils. He doesn’t want to let Lio go.

“This isn’t goodbye,” Lio promises. “I’ll still be yours when this is all over.” He reaches for the manual lever to open the access hatch.

“...Wait, Lio!” Galo unclips his helmet and yanks it off, spilling out spiky blue hair. He grabs Lio’s wrist before he can turn the door handle.

Lio freezes, his pulse fluttering beneath Galo’s fingertips. Their eyes meet, magenta and burning blue.

“Just—“ Galo dredges up the words out of the roiling miasma of feelings inside. “There’s just one thing I wanna say— I know I said it before, but not properly, so...” he takes a deep breath. “I love you, Lio.”

Lio’s frozen expression melts into something warm and genuine. “You ridiculous, overdramatic — I love you too, Galo Thymos,” he says.

Lio turns his hand to twine their fingers together. In the blink of an eye, he pulls Galo in and kisses him, mouth bright and hot and tender, showing with his touch what words alone couldn’t convey.

Moments later they separate, and Lio puts on his helmet again. “Now, enough theatrics. Are you going to help me save the world, or not?”

Head still spinning a bit, Galo nevertheless replies, “Hell yeah I am! Both our world, and the Promare’s!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” says Lio, smiling warmly. “See you on the other side... partner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you may notice the chapter count got revised upward yet again. this chapter was originally gonna be the whole finale but it was starting to get long so i split it in two.  
> next chapter is the FINAL finale like for real this time no whammies. (and then the Epilogue)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit late but, happy anniversary of the jpn promare release!!  
> here we go, this chapter which took almost a month to write, please enjoy

Lio exits the mech, stepping outside into what seems like a hostile alien world.

It’s hot; oppressively so, even through Lio’s insulated pilot suit. Wind gusts buffet his body from all directions, so violent they threaten to throw him off of where he stands atop the mech. The hatch slides shut automatically behind him, in order to shield the interior of the cockpit from the firestorm outside.

Lio carefully straightens to his full height, feet planted firmly on the black metal plating of _Galo de Leona_ ’s helmet. He looks out between the horns that adorn the giant mech’s head to survey the scene in the volcanic crater beyond.

The dimensional portal spans across the lava like a vast sheet of flat black glass, its edges fizzing with otherworldly energy. On the opposite side of the lava lake towers Prometheus, the many-legged serpentine monster born out of Royce’s rage and the power he siphoned from the portal. Up in the sky above, the triangular shapes of Promare swirl and writhe, fighting the magnetic pull as Prometheus draws the alien lights into its jagged maw to stoke its ever-burning fire within.

Prometheus is too fixed on drawing every ounce of power and flame into itself to have noticed Lio yet. That's a good thing; it means Lio has a shot at resonating with the Promare while the monster is distracted.

As Lio surveys the scene at the volcano’s peak, he hears a voice echo out of the receiver by his ear:

“Starlight, do you copy?”

“I hear you, Galo,” Lio says, the sound of his partner’s voice the only comfort in this inhospitable place.

“How are you doing out there? Any luck contacting the Promare?”

“Haven’t tried yet. I need to focus first,” Lio says.

“All right. I’m gonna shift Leona into low power mode to save on fuel,” says Galo. “But if anything happens to you out there, just say the word and I'll protect you with my blazing soul!”

Lio smiles. "I know you will."

"Love you," Galo says somewhat hurriedly, as he closes the call.

His words spark a bloom of warmth inside Lio. "Love you," he echoes back into the empty mic. The words feel... new, and strange, yet right. It leaves behind a glow inside, a circle of calm in the center of all this chaos.

Holding onto that feeling, Lio looks up again at the Promare lights flashing in the sky, and reaches out.

As soon as he opens his mind again, the sound of it hits him: a blast of psychic noise so loud, it threatens to knock him off his feet. Lio wants to slam his hands over his ears to try and block them out, but it wouldn’t do him any good; the voices are echoing inside his head. It’s like a cacophony of overlapping feelings: rage and pain and joy and anguish and _burn burning need to burn all of it everything burning—_

This is insane. Lio's crazy for trying to contact the Promare like this. How is he supposed to establish a connection when he can’t even find his own thoughts from the thrashing, raging chaos that resonates inside his own mind?!

Lio takes a deep breath, tasting smoke and sulfur. He closes his eyes, reaches for that feeling he had moments before: that warm, calm glow.

Seconds pass, and slowly he relaxes. His breathing calms and levels out. The noises are no less loud than before, but Lio feels separate from them now, on his own island of calm within the boiling sea.

...That's right. He's _Lio goddamn Fotia_. He was born burning; he makes the flames sing with his touch. He's the one who set the world on fire.

He clears his mind, until what remains is pure will: that ironclad determination that, once upon a time, made him the leader of Mad Burnish. It’s a righteous beacon that blazes inside him, always guiding Lio with its light. It’s what made him the most powerful Burnish the world had ever seen.

He takes that willpower, and forces it into a singular, simple command:

_Listen._

At first, nothing appears to happen. The volcano rumbles, and the enormous shape of Prometheus on the opposite side of the lava lake continues to seethe with bright-burning light.

But then a change passes across the volcano peak. The triangular lights in the sky shiver as one. Their chaotic spiralling stills, and their voices quiet for a moment.

 _Be calm,_ thinks Lio, as the Promare drift to earth like burning snowflakes.

And then, he hears an answering voice.

_FriENd?_

It’s quiet, just on the edge of perception, and yet the sound of it floods Lio with a sense of familiarity, like hearing the voice of a loved one after years of separation.

“Yes, it’s me,” he says, unable to stifle the feeling of burning joy that blooms in his chest, out of the place his own Promare used to reside.

 _FRienD miSSeD yoU frIEND,_ the Promare echo, trembling excitedly in the air.

“I missed you too,” Lio admits.

_frienD LiED hurT wHy LIEd HURts_

“...Huh?” Lio blinks, confused. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

 _FRIeND callEd to Us,_ say the Promare, _opEneD the GaTe._

“That wasn’t me,” Lio says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. You never should have been brought back into this world. You didn’t ask for this, and now you’re hurting.”

 _ColD heRe hURts PAin,_ say the Promare. _HurT blEEding fadiNg._

“You’re bleeding out,” Lio gasps as he realizes. “The portal is like a wound, and you’re leaking heat from the core of your star.”

 _FadINg cold DARKness,_ they echo sadly.

“I’m not going to let you burn out,” Lio promises. “You saved me, and all my fellow Burnish. So let me do the same for you.” He holds out a hand towards the Promare. “I’ll close the portal and send you home, just like before. But I need you to lend me your fire, one last time.”

 _FiRE BURN FIRE,_ the Promare resonate with that, and their lights swirl excitedly in a vortex around him.

Unfortunately, it’s that moment that something else notices Lio.

Across the lake of lava, Prometheus pauses in its feeding. It lifts its elongated, lizardlike head up and fixes Lio with a glare from its central eye. Within the sea of fire inside of the monster, Lio sees Royce, silhouetted against the white-hot flame.

 **Lio Fotia,** booms a deep, and altogether too familiar voice. The sound of it feels like it’s splitting Lio’s head in two. The Promare that were gathering around him scatter, and as they do the growing warmth within Lio fades, replaced by a cold dread.

“Royce,” Lio speaks out over the rumbling volcano and cracking pain inside his skull.

 **I knew you'd show yourself soon enough,** rumbles Royce’s voice from the other side of the lake. **You never could resist the call of the flame.**

So Royce _was_ conscious and aware of his actions inside that giant monster. Improbable as it was, maybe that meant Lio could reason with him.

“Royce, what are you doing?” Lio shouts across the divide. “Erupting the volcano, bringing back the Promare— Have you gone mad?!”

 **Mad?** A cracking rumble that sounds strangely like laughter echoes out from within the monster. **Maybe it seems that way to you. But then, you hardly agreed with any of my plans.**

"You're out of control, Royce," Lio tells him.

 **Whose control? Yours?** Prometheus opens its mouth, revealing its teeth in a jagged grin.

Lio stands firm. "This isn't about me," he insists. "Can't you see what's happening? You're destroying everything!"

 **You're just jealous,** taunts Royce from behind Prometheus' grinning maw. **For the first time, you're not the most powerful Burnish in the world.**

"Look past your own ego for a second!" Lio gestures down the sloping sides of the volcano towards the burning valley below. “Your city, your people— Tartaros is in ruins!”

 **They were all willing to pay the price,** Royce says. **They wanted their fire back. I'm merely carrying out their desires.**

"Is that what the Burnish want, or is it what _you_ want, Royce?" Lio shakes his head. "Most of them just wanted to lead normal lives. What gives you the right to take that choice away from them?"

 **You mean, the way _you_ took away our fire?** Royce snarls, as flames sizzle up along the salamander's spine. **Seems like we _both_ have our ideas about what's right for the Burnish. **

"Our flames were destroying the planet from the inside. You know that," says Lio. "Putting them out saved every living thing on Earth, _including_ the Burnish!"

 **Hmph. Without our fire, can we even call ourselves Burnish anymore?** Multicolored lights flash within the body of Prometheus. **To live is to burn. That's the Burnish way!**

"We're still Burnish," Lio objects. "So long as we have our community, and our memories of burning together. We'll never lose that.”

 **That's not what you said before,** Royce rumbles, hissing hot steam out of the monster’s nostrils.

"That was because— because you _kidnapped_ me, Royce!" Despite his efforts to keep his reason and composure, frustration roils up within Lio. “You abducted and tortured me, tried to coerce me into doing your bidding, and you nearly _killed_ my boyfriend!”

 **I gave you a choice,** Royce growls. **You could’ve joined me in the flames. Now you’ll pay the price, and burn with the rest of them!**

Prometheus lashes its tail against the mountain. The impact sends a plume of lava bursting upwards out of the lake and into the sky. A wave of heat hits Lio, and he’s only partially shielded by the protective suit; he can feel his body is close to its human limits, fatigue and dehydration setting in.

Even so, Lio refuses to show weakness in front of Royce. He spreads his stance wider and faces the monster, hands curled into fists atop his hips.

He gives a momentary glance to the black metal of the mech beneath his feet, wonders how Galo’s doing in there and how much of the conversation he’s heard. Leona’s low on fuel — Lio knows— so he thinks Galo is waiting, biding his time until Lio closes the portal so that he can deliver the final _coup de grace_.

Now, Lio needs to keep his promise to Galo: he needs to establish a connection with the Promare and close the portal, so that they can finish this, once and for all.

"Can't you hear them?!" Lio shouts at the top of his lungs, scraping his voice raw. "The Promare are screaming!"

 **Yes, they scream to burn, louder and brighter than ever!** Prometheus roars, sending technicolor jets of flame bursting out from vents along its back. **It feels _amazing!_**

"You're wrong! The Promare are suffering and dying, because of you!" As Lio says that, he's hit with another screeching wave of pain, searing across his skull like a migraine.

Prometheus growls. **I grow tired of your lies, Lio Fotia. You and I will never be anything more than enemies. And soon, you will be nothing at all!**

Flames lash out from between Prometheus' teeth, and moments later the monster opens its jagged mouth wide and unleashes a blistering ray of white-hot starfire, directed squarely at the place where Lio is standing.

It happens so fast that Lio barely has time to close his eyes. Part of him expects to be immolated where he stands, burnt to oblivion in an instant. He screws his eyes shut—

—and opens them again moments later when _Galo de Leona_ lurches to life beneath his feet. Tongues of flame curl around the metal gauntlets on the mech's arms, which form a defensive barricade around Lio.

A familiar voice crackles in Lio's earpiece.

"You see that, starlight? I said I was gonna protect you, and I did!" says Galo. Lio can hear him smiling brightly behind his words.

Lio finds himself smiling too. "Thanks, Galo."

"So, Lio, is your plan to connect with the Promare working yet? 'Cause I don't know how long Leona can keep this up..." Galo trails off. The metal on the mech's armored gauntlets glows red-hot and starts to sag and slump as it partially melts underneath Prometheus' continuous attack.

Lio frowns. "I almost had it, but then Royce interrupted me. I need to distract him again..."

"Somebody once told me I'm very distracting," Galo says, sounding smug.

"Idiot," Lio says fondly. "So, have you got a plan, then?"

"No, but—" Loudspeakers unfold from Leona's shoulder pads, and Galo's voice blasts out across the valley: "HEY, ROYCE!"

The unceasing blast of starfire peters out. Across the valley, Prometheus pauses. The monster looks ... confused, if such an expression is even possible across the many-eyed face of the volcanic beast.

"You think you're hot shit, huh?" taunts Galo. "But you're not! Well, you might be hot, but you aren't shit!"

 **You,** rumbles Royce, voice low and seething with rage. **Galo Thymos. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance, Flameless.**

“You keep calling me Flameless, but my blazing soul burns hotter than you ever will, you overgrown lizard! You hear me?!”

Prometheus rears up, the flashing colors of its lava body cutting a blazing silhouette against the ash-choked sky. **You think that armor will protect you? My flames can burn through anything!!** Burnish flares burst out of its back, trailing burning strings into the sky, surrounding the monster with a halo of flame.

“We’ll see about that,” Galo taunts. Then Lio hears his voice again, but through the speakers in his helmet this time. “How was that for a distraction, Lio? You gonna be okay?”

“Y—yeah,” Lio says, although the extreme heat Prometheus is flaring out from its form is making his movements and thoughts sluggish. He nevertheless grips tightly to the mech's horns to steady himself, closes his eyes and reaches for his inner focus again. He needs to resonate with a single Promare — to accept its flames inside himself again, and then the heat won't be able to harm him anymore.

_Just one..._

Before Lio can even try, Prometheus attacks. It descends on them like a tidal wave, like a snake lunging for its prey. The monster's jaws yawn impossibly wide, enough to swallow Leona entirely within its molten body. Galo gives a wordless yell as he reaches out and catches the serpent's jaws before they can snap closed around the mech. Metal creaks and screeches with the strain of it, as the monster's lava drool hisses and sizzles against the mech's armor, which is warping and deforming under the heat and pressure. Lio looks up, his stomach bottoming out in fear as he stares up at the white-hot glowing core that pulses within its mouth. Inside a burning field of light, Lio sees Royce's silhouette, his arms and legs stretched out and a wide grin on his face, his maniacal laughter echoing out across the mountaintop.

"Geeeeeeet ooooofffff!!!" Galo shouts, and Leona drops to one knee on the edge of the lake. This new angle causes Prometheus to slip, allowing Galo to wrench its jaws away from them and fling the monster off. Galo immediately follows this up with a jet-boosted punch, sending the robot's fist crashing into the side of Prometheus' head. Prometheus staggers from the impact, its long body colliding with the inner walls of the crater.

Galo gives a victorious _woop!_ , but moments later, his celebration is interrupted by the sound of metal creaking and groaning. Lio is nearly flung off the top, and needs to cling to the mech's horns for dear life as Leona's other knee gives out. The mech tilts forward dangerously, and Galo only just manages to steady it to prevent it from planting face-first into the lava lake.

"Shit! Sorry Lio," Galo says. "You still okay there, bud?"

"I'm— not hurt," Lio manages to grit out, although the heat and exhaustion is getting to him. He gets to his feet again, holding on to the mech's horn for support, and stares out at the monster, the lake, and the portal.

“So, uh... hate to say it, but we’re kinda... stuck,” says Galo. “I mean, that was _literally_ our last leg just now.”

“I know,” Lio says. Nearly every last drop of power within the mech must be gone by now, he thinks. And Lio has no power of his own to draw from. Here, at the end of everything, with the person he trusts with his life, his body, his soul— Lio is at a loss. He stares down, off the tip of the mech’s horn that juts out over the lake of lava, and peers into the dimensional portal. Its slowly-turning triangular shape holds a vast blackness within, like the dark between the stars.

The abyss stares back. He feels something inside it... pulling at him. Drawing him towards it.

In the back of his head, he hears a voice again.

_JoIN US buRn BUrN_

...And just like that, Lio knows what he has to do.

He takes a step backwards from the edge, then another. His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

He raises one hand, opens the comms channel for a final time.

“Galo.”

“Yeah, Starlight?”

“You know I love you.”

“Y-yeah?” Galo’s voice gives a worried quiver. “Lio, what’re you—“

“I just wanted to make sure you knew.“ He fixes his gaze on a point between the mech’s horns, staring into the black portal. “...Now, don’t stop me.”

“Wh—“ Galo begins to say, which immediately becomes a shout, “—LIO!!”

Lio ignores him as he breaks into a sprint, feet clanging against metal, runs to the edge and leaps off.

He drops feet-first, arms outstretched, eyes closed. Galo de Leona reaches out instinctively with one massive hand to try and grab Lio out of the air. Its metal fingertips fall shy by mere inches as Lio slips from its grasp and falls down, down into the pit of fire.

As Lio falls, the flow of time seems to shift and slow, becoming viscous, mutable.

In his mind, behind closed eyes, he’s no longer at the mountain peak. He’s—

_—smoke filling the room as sirens wail over voices shouting FIRE BURNING FIRE, his feet on wet grass fleeing as flames lick the night sky—_

_—fear grips his chest as ice bullets hail death onto him, his friends and everything he truly believed in and fought for, stoking the rage inside into a terrifying inferno—_

_—holding tightly to another body, its warm light fading and his own inner heat blooms, bursting out as he presses their mouths together, sharing fire, like fanning the flames to light again—_

A swirling vortex of triangular lights bursts forth from the portal, rising to meet Lio as he falls, surrenders himself to the flames.

The tips of his toes touch the portal, and—

_BuRN FIRE BURN_

—Lio _burns._

Lio was born ablaze; he never had the explosive awakening that most Burnish felt. He feels it now: like every molecule in his body is spontaneously combusting, exploding with heat and light, breaking apart and reforming. His nerves are screaming in agony and pleasure as crystalline flames erupt from his fingertips, his eyes, the insides of his body. Fire courses through him, in his blood, carbonizing and regenerating every bone, muscle and sinew, reshaping the form of Lio Fotia into itself but _more_ , something familiar yet new.

All around him, beside him, _within_ him now, Lio hears the alien voices:

_FoUNd YoU FrIENd mISSed yoU BURn frIEND not LIEd BUrNIng LOVe yoU LiO loVe BuRN_

The voices rise in a crescendo, and Lio rises with them: reborn, phoenix-like. His very shape is different -- his body no longer confined to its human limits, no longer held by gravity. He explodes out of the portal and rockets into the air, surrounded by swirling Promare. Curved horns arch from the crown of his head. Fire gathers between his jaws and glittering lights trail in his wake. His hands reach out and they are made of flame, tipped with claws sharp enough to scratch the sky.

He's a _dragon_ again. Except this time, he's not fueled by rage and revenge. He's burning to protect the people he cares about; to fight for the sake of two worlds in peril.

His long body spirals upwards into the air, relishing in the joy of flight, before pivoting back around to look at the landscape beneath. The first thing he sees is the burnished-black figure of _Galo de Leona,_ kneeling beside the lava lake. Its face is turned upwards towards the sky, Lio's pink and neon flames reflecting off its shiny armor.

Prometheus, too, has witnessed Lio's transformation. The lava monster roars, and Lio feels the Promare resonate in response. He can sense them trembling, pulled in two directions at once.

He steels himself, tightens his grip on the flame. He can't afford to fully surrender himself to the fire, or else he risks being as far gone as Royce. As good as it feels to burn again, Lio knows that this feeling can't last. Even now, he's on borrowed time. The Promare are lending him their life force because they trust that Lio will keep his promise.

He's got to close the portal. It's time to end this.

Prometheus opens its jagged mouth and unleashes a blast of ashy flame, black and red. Lio meets it with a burst of his own fire, and when their attacks collide an explosion of dark smoke fills the volcano basin. Out of this smoke cloud, Lio rockets at Prometheus, brandishing crystalline claws. Prometheus may be more massive, but as a dragon Lio is fast as a firework, agile and weightless as he evades the monster's clumsy grasping attacks.

His entire body is like a sword: sharp and deadly, he slices score marks into Prometheus’ sides. The open wounds weep molten material, which drains into the lake of lava. Prometheus howls, and retaliates by sending out Burnish flares of its own: blunt-nosed, sharp-toothed constructs of red flame. Lio slices straight through these; the flares flicker out. They have no power compared to him in this shape.

Now Lio rakes his claws over Prometheus’ face, across the myriad glowing eye holes. Flames bleed out from the deep cut he leaves behind, molten lava blood now pouring from its face like tears. Prometheus thrashes wildly; it’s momentarily blinded, which was Lio’s aim.

He takes advantage of the monster’s disorientation to coil his impossibly long, narrow body around Prometheus. He weaves himself, serpentine, through the larger creature's many legs, encircling its body in loop after loop of crackling solid flame. In return, Prometheus bites at him, sinking its jagged teeth into Lio's coils. Lio bites back, just behind its neck, above the bright-burning orb that contains Royce's body within the larger shape of the beast.

With the monster locked down and immobilized, Lio drags it downwards, into the portal where his dragon body originates. Realizing what's happening, Prometheus grasps onto the rim of the crater, trying to resist the pull. It's useless now: the Promare are acting in unison again, one united hivemind, aligned with Lio instead of Royce.

They want to go home.

As soon as the first part of Prometheus' body touches the portal, the void-black surface emits a blaze of fire and light. The monster lets out a choking gurgle as it tries to resist, but the magnetism of it has reversed: now, instead of Prometheus leeching energy from the portal, the Promare are the ones pulling him in. All of the lights descend from the sky and swirl downwards, like water down a drain, pulling Prometheus and Royce and Lio in with them to the other side.

Lio takes one last look at the world, and sees Galo de Leona reaching out towards him, trying to pull Lio free from the portal's pull.

But Lio knows that's not possible. The gateway can only be closed from the opposite side.

A burning tear flickers and falls from the dragon's eye—

_I'm sorry, Galo._

—As Lio crosses the boundary and

through

to the world on the other side.

He opens his eyes, and finds himself in a blank void — not black, nor white, but a color for which he has no name. It's like the shifting static behind closed eyelids, the colors in a dream.

There's no air, no gravity. He thinks this place may not actually be real.

Glancing down at himself, Lio sees that he's back to his regular human shape; only his body seems to be shaped out of pink light, glowing softly. He holds up at his hands and peers through translucent fingers.

"What the hell?!"

Lio's surprised to hear the sound of a voice— a human voice, at that. He looks up, and sees Royce, suspended opposite him in the void.

Royce's form is similarly composed of light; he's golden to Lio's pink. He glares at Lio, although his anger is somewhat lessened from before, confusion taking its place.

He gestures at Lio, at the blank empty space that surrounds them. "What did you do?!"

"I pulled us both through the portal," Lio says. "We're in the Promare's dimension, I think."

"The hell did you do that for?!" Royce snaps. "I finally had my fire again!"

"Royce, listen to me," Lio says. "You were out of control."

"I was in _complete_ control!"

"No, you weren't. Your rampage destroyed Tartaros, and it was killing the Promare."

"I wasn't..." Royce trails off. He stares at the palm of his hand, then up towards Lio, the anger flickering and fading from his eyes. “I thought... I heard the voices telling me to burn.”

"The Promare completed their combustion in the last Great World Blaze," Lio says. "Those voices you thought you heard were just your own memories."

"But it wasn't just me. All of us Burnish, we heard them—"

"I know," Lio says. "I felt it, too, like a phantom limb. But it wasn’t real."

“But I brought it back! I opened the gate again!”

Lio shakes his head. “What you opened wasn’t a gateway — it was a wound. Your machine tore open a wormhole inside the core of their star. If you kept drawing power from it, you were going to destroy the Promare completely.”

“How d’you know that, anyway?!”

“Because I _listened_ , Royce!” Lio snaps, patience wearing thin. “You claim to be the Flamespeaker, but you couldn’t hear them when they were _screaming in agony!_ ”

Lio’s outburst seems to stun Royce into a momentary silence. He opens his mouth, closes it, looks at his hands again, then back up at Lio.

“...It’s really like that?”

Lio nods. “Your actions might have destroyed both of our worlds. I did what I had to in order to save them.”

Royce gazes off into the bottomless abyss. “Shoulda figured you’d stop me.” He gives a wry chuckle. “Just like old times, eh?”

“I never hated you, Royce,” Lio tells him. “I wanted the same thing you did, a better world for the Burnish.”

“A world without our fire?”

“A world with _each other,_ ” Lio says. “Our community. That’s more important than having our flames.”

Royce sighs. “You were always too strong for me, Lio Fotia. Even without your flames.”

“I’m not all that strong,” Lio says. “And I had help.”

“You and that firefighter...” Royce shakes his head. “Serves me right for underestimating you both.”

Thoughts of Galo pass through Lio’s mind, along with a hot blaze of longing. He’s on the other side of that boundary; in another dimension that Lio might never see again.

“So, what, are we trapped here forever now?” asks Royce. “Just you, me, and all this empty fucking space?”

“...I don’t know,” Lio says. “But I don’t think we’re here alone.”

“Huh?”

Lio closes his eyes. Paradoxically, this makes the world around him seem brighter. He takes a deep breath. Even in this airless space, he thinks he smells something akin to woodsmoke.

“It’s all right,” he says aloud. “I’m ready. You can show me what’s really out there.”

In the back of his head, he hears the voice of the Promare:

_OpEn yOUr EyEs_

...And this time, when he does, his vision is filled with brilliant, burning light.

Beneath his feet and above his head, a vast, infinite fractal of colors and angular shapes stretches in all directions. It’s like they’re inside the structure of a giant crystal. Lio sees himself reflected across uncountable facets, mirrored into every imaginable direction. And all of it, every particle and wave of this dimension, is composed of brilliant flame.

“Woah,” gasps Royce.

“This... is the Promare?” Lio stares, dazzled by all of the colors that his mind can barely comprehend.

He’d thought he understood them — at least, having once held so many inside of him, that he knew their nature better than most. Only now, faced with the vast, alien truth of it, he realizes he really knew almost nothing about them at all.

“The flames, they’re... beautiful,” Royce breathes.

Energy thrums along the angular shapes of the crystalline structure. From between the burning lines, a sort of unified ringing emerges, a harmonious sound that almost sounds like...

...The Promare are _singing_.

Lio hears the voices resonate in his head and all around. The sound is layered with emotion, with images and feelings and impressions. It feels like a warm embrace, the kiss of sunlight on skin, a firework exploding in the sky—

_ThANk yOU_

“Did it work? Are you safe? Did we close the portal?” Lio asks the myriad voices.

 _YeS,_ the voices say, _sAVeD US helPED uS bUrN heALEd Us ThaNk yoU lOVe tHank yOu_

“You saved my life, too,” Lio tells them. “I was just returning the favor.”

A burst of flame near Lio draws his attention. He turns to look at Royce, to find his form engulfed in fire. A momentary panic fills Lio — which fades, as soon as he hears Royce laugh. His laughter is not cruel or sadistic anymore, but contains sheer, uninhibited joy.

“Ahahaha! So _this_ is what it means to burn everlasting!!” He exclaims, delighted, as his form flickers, shimmers, becomes golden fire itself.

_BuRn bURn foREvEr BUrn LoVE bURN_

“Lio! It feels incredible! Come burn together with us!”

Lio feels it, beneath his translucent skin: the crackling heat, yearning to ignite. He knows that if he burns now, he’ll join the Promare, eternal: surrounded by love inside the heart of a star.

...But Lio won’t burn. His heart lies elsewhere, in another dimension.

“No,” he tells Royce and the Promare. “I... I’d like to go home, to Earth, if that’s possible.”

 _HoME,_ echo the Promare, swirling around him. _HomE, hoMe..._

The lines of light flow inward, and the triangular shapes in the crystalline walls pull apart, revealing a familiar gateway, just wide enough for someone around Lio’s height to step through.

“...Thank you,” Lio says. He pauses by the gateway, turns back to look at the burning form that was Royce, which now flickers and dances in only the vague shape of a human composed of golden flames. “Are you coming, too?”

“Hmm... nah,” says Royce, and his flame body appears to give a nonchalant shrug. “Going back to earth would mean I’d never get to burn ever again. I think this dimension suits me a lot better!” He laughs again, like the popping of logs in a bonfire.

“If you’re quite certain...”

“Yeah, I am,” Royce says. For a moment, the flames resolve themselves again into the shape of a man. Royce looks younger than he used to, younger even than the man Lio had once met as the former leader of Mad Burnish. He looks very much almost like a child. “Oh, but Lio... when you get back to earth, can you do me a favor?”

Despite everything Royce has done — all the hostility, the manipulation, the violence — Lio senses no such duplicity from him now.

“Yes, Royce, what is it?”

“Look after my people, will ya? It doesn’t matter if it’s Tartaros, or Promepolis, or somewhere else, just... make sure they’re gettin’ what they need,” Royce says.

“Of course,” Lio says.

“And... keep on fightin’ for the Burnish,” Royce adds. “They need someone like you out there, a passionate soul who’s not afraid to fight for our right to be free.”

“Always.”

“Yeah. I probably didn’t need to tell you that, did I?” Royce’s fiery form chuckles. “Even when our flames are all gone. You’ll always have that fire inside of you, kid.”

A warmth sparks inside Lio’s chest. “...Thanks.”

“Hey, don’t mention it.” Royce says, and his form flickers. “You’d better pop through that portal, now. Dunno how much longer it’ll stay open.”

“Okay,” Lio agrees. He takes one final look around him, at the impossible landscape, the brightly-burning form of Royce, the open doorway. Takes a deep breath...

...And steps across.

***

Lio’s boots crunch against solid ground. He wobbles, vision swimming before his eyes, while he adjusts to the strange and familiar feeling of having weight again, being made of matter rather than pure energy. He breathes in crisp, chill air, and blinks away black static as his vision clears and he sees the landscape around him.

He’s at the bottommost point of a huge basin made out of black glassy stone. The air is chill, forming his breath into mist before his face. Ash and ice crystals crunch underfoot. All is quiet, without even any wind to disturb the stillness. Pale particles drift lazily downwards and gather in his hair. Overhead, a gap in between the dark clouds reveals a clear blue sky.

Where is this place? Lio doesn’t recognize it. Could the Promare have returned him to a different place, a different time entirely...?

As he’s caught up in this panicked confusion, a shout interrupts his thoughts:

“Lio?! LIO!!!”

Lio turns towards the sound of his name, and sees a familiar blue-haired head poking out from a hole in the ground, about fifty paces away. Galo’s facing away from him; he hasn’t noticed Lio yet. As Lio watches, he swings an axe down on the glassy stone beneath his feet.

He’s... digging for something?

“Galo!”

At the sound of his name, Galo freezes. He turns around, and when he spots Lio, the axe drops from his hands and clatters to the ground. He hauls himself up out of the hole and sprints towards Lio, arms outstretched.

Lio tries to run to him; in that moment, the exhaustion kicks in, and he falters and stumbles. Before he can fall flat on his face, he’s caught in a pair of strong, warm, muscular arms.

“Woah, hey there, bud...” Galo’s voice is rough and hoarse. Lio looks up and sees tears welling in the corner of his eyes, and dried marks on his face. These contrast the brilliant bright smile he now wears, like the sun shining from between dark clouds.

“...Hi,” Lio says. Held safely in Galo’s arms like this, Lio’s suddenly aware of how exhausted he is, in mind, body, and soul.

He wants to be held like this forever. But there’s too many questions that still burn inside his mind.

“...Where are we?”

“We’re still on top of Mt. Hades,” Galo tells him. “After you went all _kakusei_ on Prometheus and pulled him into the portal, the gateway disappeared and the lava began rising up out of control. I didn’t wanna drop the chain freezing bomb while you were in there... but... if I let the volcano blow, then the lava would’ve buried everyone in the valley...”

In light of at his new explanation, Lio realizes that the large shape on the edge of the crater, which at first he thought was a spire of rock and ice, is in fact the _Galo de Leona_ mech itself, badly weathered, partially embedded in the frozen lava and encased in a thick layer of rime. He also realizes why Galo was digging: the entire time Lio was in the Promare’s dimension, Galo had been convinced that he was trapped _inside_ the lava lake, afraid his actions had frozen Lio down there forever. He’d been digging to try and set Lio free.

A pained expression crosses Galo’s face. His voice quivers and his eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “S-seriously... I thought I might never see you again.”

In contrast to how tired and heavy Lio’s body feels, there’s a light and floaty feeling that flutters in his chest. “I managed to find you again somehow. Guess your soul burned too brightly for me to ignore.”

“Yeah! That’s my starlight,” Galo says, wrapping his arms more tightly around Lio. “...Hey, can I kiss you?”

“What do you think I came back from the parallel universe for?!”

Galo laughs, and presses his lips to Lio’s. He tastes like salty tears, like ashes, snow and sunshine, and Lio leans into him, wraps himself in him, grateful and alive and in love.

They remain together for an uncountable span of time, until the sound of helicopter blades echoes across the crater:

 _Thup-thup-thup-thup-thup._ The familiar red-and-gold colors of the Burning Rescue chopper shine bright and clear against the ash and ice of the landscape. Lio and Galo pull apart from each other and stand, hands interlocked, watching as the helicopter touches down in the crater. The members of Team 3 disembark, accompanied by Meis and Gueira.

Predictably, Lucia points towards the mech, which looms over the edge of the crater, encased in ice:

“Oh nooo, Galo de Leona! What did you two idiots do to my baby?!”

Ignis rests a heavy hand on her shoulder. “The mech appears mostly intact. I’m sure you’ll be able to fix it, Lucia.”

“I know, but it’ll be so much woooork...”

As Lucia bemoans the state of their mech, Aina runs to Lio and Galo.

“Are you both okay? Any injuries?” She looks them over, concern plain on her face.

“I’m all right now,” Galo tells her. “...Lio? How about you?”

“...I’ll be fine,” Lio says. “Just... tired.”

“Boss!” “Holy shit, Boss!” Gueira and Meis run up to Lio’s side.

“The Promare all went away again. We got Harley and the rest of those guys in custody,” Meis tells him. “Where’s Royce?”

“Yeah, what happened?” asks Gueira. “We saw from down in the valley! You were a _dragon_!”

“...Later,” Lio tells them. “I’ll explain everything, just...” his arms and legs feel like lead. If it wasn’t for Galo’s arm propping him up behind his shoulder blades, Lio thinks he might collapse onto the floor. “...I need a minute.”

“Never mind a minute, you two need proper medical care,” Aina says with a frown. “Galo, you nearly _died_ yesterday. We’re taking you to a real hospital in the city.”

“Sounds good to me,” Galo agrees, a small bright smile appearing on his face. He turns to look at Lio. “What d’you say, Lio? Feel like going back to Promepolis?”

Lio can’t keep a small smile from growing on his face, as well. “You mean just for now, or for the future?”

“Well, mainly just for now, but...” he tilts his head, a slight blush showing on his face. “I—I got some extra room in my place, if you need somewhere to stay...”

“I think I’d like that,” Lio tells him. “I had this idea... there’s something I’d like to do when I get back to the city.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“I think,” Lio says, “I’d like to learn how to be an EMT, so that I can save lives like you do.”

The smile that shines on Galo’s face in response to Lio’s words, is brighter than the sun. Brighter, even, than the core of that blazing, far-distant star. He smiles, and everything in Lio’s world becomes simpler, brighter, and warmer.

“Hell yeah! Starlight, let’s do it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from the bottom of my heart, thank you so, so much for reading.  
> epilogue will be up in a few days.


	18. Epilogue

_Eight months later._

Lio is leaning against the railing of the fire escape, watching the foot traffic pass by on the city streets below, when he hears the sound of their video phone ringing from inside the apartment.

Moments later, there’s the telltale shuffle of rapid footsteps, and Galo’s spiky-haired head pokes out the open door:

“Lio! Meis and Gueira are calling!” 

Lio smiles. Galo’s wearing an apron and has flour in his hair; he’s been really into baking bread lately.

“Go ahead and answer. I’ll join you in a minute,” Lio tells him. Galo nods, and scurries inside to take the call.

Lio hesitates for a moment longer, takes in a deep breath of the city air. Before he moved semi-permanently into Galo’s apartment, it had been a long time since he lingered in any place for much longer than a month. His past self would have never imagined he’d end up living in Promepolis: once an anti-Burnish bulwark, the urban empire of Kray Foresight. But times have changed, and the city is now a shining symbol of human and Burnish unity. 

_‘Home’_... a word that Lio thought would never apply to his life again. He has to admit, it has a nice ring to it.

He hadn’t been expecting much fanfare when they were released from the hospital. Or, well, he’d been expecting it for Galo — Mr. Hero-of-Promepolis — but not for Lio himself. Yet, it turns out Lio has plenty of fans of his own. He’d been greeted with bouquets of roses and a large, papercraft dragon in the parking lot outside the hospital’s front doors.

And then, again, at the official unveiling of _Galo de Leona_ after Lucia repaired its battle damage from the fight against Prometheus. There was a parade, which shouldn't have been a surprise; yet as he stood by Galo's side in the open cockpit, looking down at the crowds below, he'd felt something in his chest then that he didn't have words to describe. Burnish and non-burnish alike crowded the streets, waving Burnish pride flags and fire-safe sparklers. 

He felt the rough warmth of Galo's palm against his own, as he raised their joined hands overhead, to roaring cheers of praise. Before, he hadn't dared to dream that this kind of peaceful unity could ever exist. But now, looking over the undeniable proof gathered in the streets below, he feels like the dreams of the Burnish are finally within reach.

So, Lio's a public figure now. Well, he was before, too; but being an infamous arson terrorist was a far cry from being known as a heroic mech pilot. Now there were letters, fan mail. He signed autographs; some Burnish even approached him and asked if he could officiate their wedding.

...And then there was the joint interview with him and Galo, televised live on PNN. He'd entered the interview calm and collected, and then promptly lost all his composure the minute Galo let it slip on live TV that he and Lio were in a relationship. There was no rescuing the conversation after that, so instead Lio leaned into it, laying his hand atop Galo's in view of the camera, a coy smile appearing on his face. Let them pry; he'd leave them with no doubt that Galo Thymos was _his_.

Because, that's the thing, with Galo. He'd so completely and effectively derailed Lio's life from the moment they first collided, explosively, on that rooftop. He does it constantly, by degrees, every single day they're together. And Lio can't deny how much better his life is for it.

He rarely feels cold inside, now. In fact, he can scarcely remember the last time he did.

***

"—And then I said, hey, if he needs to prep for his CPR exam, he can always practice on me," Galo is saying when Lio re-enters the apartment.

Laughter echoes from the other end of the video call. On the screen, he sees Meis and Gueira, arms looped around each other’s shoulders.

"His face got all scrunched up when I suggested that, it was adora— oh, hey, Lio!"

"Galo." Lio crosses his arms, taps one foot. "You better not have been about to say what I think you were."

"Uhhh, did I say 'adorable'? I meant super manly and badass, obviously," Galo says with a lopsided grin.

"Nah, Boss, admit it: you're cute as hell," teases Gueira from the other side of the screen. 

"I will not accept such _slander_ from former generals of Mad Burnish," Lio responds testily.

"Aw, c'mon, aren't you at least glad to hear from us? It's been over a month, hasn't it?"

"It has been a while," Lio says, dropping the irritable act as he slides in on the couch beside Galo. "How's the situation over in Tartaros? Reconstruction going smoothly?"

Gueira bobs his head enthusiastically. "Yeah! We just finished rebuilding the school, and a few weeks from now we're expecting our first big harvest."

"That's good to hear," Lio says. "How are the citizens? Any trouble from Harley or the rest of Royce's former followers?"

"Nah, Harley's actually been a huge help," says Meis. “They’re more dedicated than anyone when it comes to rebuilding Tartaros. If it weren't for their help organizing teams to rebuild, we wouldn't have done even half of what we did.”

“Yeah, guess they felt bad about the whole, almost-throwing-folks-into-a-volcano thing,” adds Gueira. “They’re one of the hardest workers we got. And people respect them, too. 

Lio nods. “That’s good. I guess they’re serious about carrying on Royce’s legacy of building a true home for the Burnish.”

“I’ll say. Although, that statue they built in the center of town still kinda freaks me out. It looks just like him...”

Lio shrugs. “We can’t blame them for wanting to remember him. For all of the destruction he caused, Royce truly believed in a better future for the Burnish. Tartaros wouldn’t exist without him... and neither would Mad Burnish, for that matter.”

“Hm. Guess you’re right,” says Gueira. “Still, what a way to go, huh? Joining his soul with the Promare to burn for all eternity. Talk about commitment.”

Meis clears his throat. “Speaking of... there’s another reason we called,” he says, and nudges Gueira with an elbow, giving him a meaningful glance.

After a moment’s confusion, Gueira grins widely. “Huh? ...Oh! That’s right!” He holds out his right hand in front of the camera. For the first time, Lio notices a new piece of jewelry on his ring finger: a shiny black metal band, inlaid with geometric shapes. “Boss, check it out! We’re engaged!”

“Whaaaaat?!” Galo exclaims. “You two’re getting married?!”

“Yep,” Meis says smugly, holding up his own hand to reveal a matching silver ring of his own, partner to Gueira’s. “Figured it’s been a long enough time coming.”

“That’s _amazing_! You gotta gimme all the deets,” Galo says, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “Who asked who? How did it all go down? When’s the wedding?”

“Hey, whoa, slow your roll there, Sonic,” Meis says with a quiet chuckle. “Gueira popped the question ‘bout a week ago, after I spent months bein’ too chickenshit to do it myself. We haven’t had much time to plan, in between reconstruction and everything...”

“Screw making plans! I say, we do it the old-fashioned way, just build a big-ass fire and invite everybody we know,” says Gueira. “Hey, Boss, how soon can you and Galo get back to Tartaros?”

“Well—” The gears of Lio’s brain lock up. Something about the combination of the phrases _engaged_ and _wedding_ and _really big fire_ was causing a buzz inside his head and a blush across his cheeks.

Fortunately, Galo steps in after Lio’s momentary pause. “It’s kinda to say, with Lio’s new job, but I’m sure we can think of something. Right, starlight?”

“Y-yes,” Lio says belatedly. “And congratulations, you two. I agree, it’s been a long time coming.”

“Hope it’s not too out of line to ask if you’ll be our best man, Boss,” adds Meis. “I mean, we owe our lives to you, after all.”

“I’d be delighted.”

“Wait, Lio’s gonna be the best man for both of you?” Galo asks, scratching his undercut. “How’s that s’posed to work?”

“We’ll just figure it out. Mad Burnish style!” Gueira replies with a grin.

“I guess that makes sense,” Galo says with a thoughtful expression. “After all, Lio’s the best man I know.”

Something in Galo’s words causes Lio to blush even harder. He can’t seem to keep his mind off the matching rings on Gueira and Meis’ hands, Meis saying how it’s _been a long time coming_ , or the loving look on Galo’s handsome face as he praises Lio.

From the other side of the video call, Meis makes eye contact, and the sly grin on his face indicates that he may know more about Lio’s mental state than Lio is comfortable admitting.

“I agree,” drawls Meis, still wearing that self-assured grin. “And I’m sure it’ll be great practice for the both of you.”

“Huh? Practice? What d’you mean?” asks Galo, confused. “Lio, what’s he talking abou—“

Fortunately, thank the stars, they are interrupted in that very moment by the loud blaring of an alarm from elsewhere in their apartment. At first, Lio thinks it’s Galo’s bread timer; but the alarm continues, loud and insistent like a fire siren.

Galo instantly snaps to attention, his carefree attitude tucked away. “Sorry, guys, but Lio and I gotta go,” he tells Meis and Gueira. “Congratulations again! Definitely keep us posted on the wedding.”

“Will do,” agrees Meis.

“Go out and save the world, or whatever it is you two do,” says Gueira. “Later!”

He hangs up the call, and moments later, Gueira and Meis’ faces are replaced on the holo screen by another familiar face.

It’s fire chief Ignis, head of Burning Rescue. He’s flanked by Lucia and Varys on either side.

“Galo and Lio. We need you down at the station immediately. There’s a class DR-4 emergency in the southeastern zone.”

"An earthquake near a settled area, huh?" Galo says, recognizing the code immediately. "Does that mean you're gonna need—"

"There's a chance the dam five miles to the north of town has been compromised, threatening the safety of up to 30,000 people," Ignis continues, "so we are deploying _Galo de Leona_ alongside our regular search-and-rescue operations."

"Yessss!" Galo pumps his fist in excitement, then freezes when he realizes that may be an inappropriate reaction to a natural disaster. "Uh, sorry chief, just got a bit fired up..."

"You're forgiven," Ignis says. "But you'd better get a move on. We'll have the mech prepped for you when you arrive at the station."

"Don't be late, you two!" chimes in Lucia, moments before the line goes dead.

Galo turns to Lio. "Well, starlight, you ready to hop back in the cockpit and save some lives?"

Lio grins back at him. "You even have to ask?"

***

It’s a big quake, the initial damage too widespread for the local emergency response teams to handle on their own. When Burning Rescue team 3 arrives on the scene, fires are still burning within the damaged buildings. The rest of the team disembarks from the transport compartment on the giant mech’s back, and sets to work putting out the smoldering flames and digging survivors out of the rubble.

That leaves Lio and Galo inside the big mech. Galo de Leona stands on the hill overlooking the city, beside the towering edifice of the river dam. Brandishing a giant matoi, the mech sends a signal, loud and clear: _evacuate the town, get to high ground_.

It’s a balancing act to pilot the _Galo de Leona_ : a delicate push and pull, a challenge for Lio’s instinct as much as his intellect. Doing it right requires two pilots to move in perfect tandem, anticipating the other’s motions and aligning their desires and drives completely.

With him, with them, it’s easy. Moving the more than ten tons of heavy machinery is nearly effortless, like it’s an extension of himself. Lio controls the massive mech suit with the same precision he learned from controlling the flames, like a super-sized version of his Detroit armor. Piloting it feels like a waltz in tandem with his partner, each of them taking turns leading and following, following and leading.

Their teammates are still in the process of evacuating the town when an earsplitting _BOOM-CRACK_ echoes out across the valley. Fractures appear in the concrete wall of the dam, and jets of water spurt out from between the gaps as the structure starts to crumble. Over the intercom, Ignis’ voice is ordering them to _do something, quick!_

Lio has barely formed the command inside his mind when the machinery reacts. The armor folds back on the mech’s arm, revealing Lucia’s newest addition to their arsenal: an ice ray built into the palm of Leona’s hand. He points it directly at the leaking dam and unleashes a bright bolt of freezing energy. It crystallizes on contact, turning the water into rigid solid spikes.

He maintains focus, guiding the freeze ray up and down the length of the fracture, again and again, until both the dam and the lake beyond are coated in many protective layers of ice. The beam eventually runs out, and the heads-up display informs them that the dam is now 99.8% sealed. Shortly after that, Ignis informs them that the town has been fully evacuated, and gives them the all-clear.

Beside him in the cockpit, Galo gives a victorious _whoop!_ Lio pulls off his helmet, shaking out lime green hair, damp with sweat. Now that nobody’s at risk from a breach, the construction mechs can move in and repair the broken dam.

He’s caught up in admiring how efficiently Lucia’s new freeze ray works, when he’s grabbed by the waist by the thick, strong arms of his boyfriend and pulled into a warm embrace.

“Lio, you did it! You were incredible!” Galo says, full of enthusiasm as always.

“You mean, _we_ did it,” Lio replies, smiling against the firmness of Galo’s pecs beneath his pilot suit. “You helped pilot, too, you know.”

“I know that, but... thirty thousand people are safe now, ‘cause of what you did.” Galo looks at him with shining eyes. “Lio... you’ll always be so amazing to me.”

“You make me want to be,” Lio tells him honestly.

“Also...” Galo’s cheeks flush a bright peach color. “Seeing you acting all confident and badass... I kinda... _really_ liked it.”

“Galo,” Lio says, in a mock-scandalized tone, “are you seriously _turned on_ by me firing a freeze ray at an unmoving object?”

“Maaaaaybe~” Galo responds in a sing-songy voice. He leans in closer until their foreheads are nearly touching. “What’cha gonna do about it, huh?”

In response, Lio closes the rest of the gap between them, crushing their lips together and earning an appreciative hum from his partner. He slides his hands up Galo's shoulders to cradle the sides of his face and dig fingers into his hair, pulling— not _too_ rough, but enough to draw our familiar gasp, one of Lio’s favorite sounds.

They proceed to get each other’s pilot suits into various states of disarray, before Lucia’s voice crackles over the intercom.

“...Yeeeeaaah, we’re gonna be a bit late getting back to HQ. Those two idiots are making out in the cockpit again.”

Lio ignores her in favor of placing a mark just above Galo’s clavicle. Clean-up can wait. Right now, he has to make up for lost time. He’s done running away. There’s no possible future he can imagine that doesn’t have a certain blue-haired idiot in it.

In the back of his head, Lio knows: he’s going to marry that idiot someday. But right now, in this moment, he has everything he needs: friends, family, a giant mech, a lifelong partner, and a love that burns brighter than the sun.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, finally, at the end. This story has been a fantastic adventure in more ways than one. Thanks to all of you who have traveled with me on this journey.
> 
> When I started writing, I had no idea how much Promare would come to mean to me, how this dumb anime movie about firefighters and robots would essentially become an island of solace in a time of chaos and uncertainty. Special thanks to all the fantastic folks in the Promare Time discord, and to Nakki for the [awesome art they made](https://twitter.com/whethervane/status/1245512765806202882?s=20) for the fic.
> 
> Now that this project is wrapped up, I've got several other ideas and AUs I'm looking to explore with these characters... so be on the lookout for that when the time comes!
> 
> Also, you can find me on twitter if you wanna talk about anime boys or dragons or kaiju or what have you: @[Oripoke_](https://twitter.com/Oripoke_)
> 
> Stay well and care for one another. I'll see you in the next adventure!


End file.
